A Mystery in Blue
by RedButterfly33
Summary: A mysterious hooded figure roams the halls of Hogwarts at night, and the teachers are suspiciously tight-lipped about it. When two Ravenclaw prefects happen upon this cloaked intruder, four students uncover a conspiracy reaching far beyond the walls of the school of witchcraft and wizardry, threatening the entire magical community.
1. Chapter 1

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 1**

The crackle of the fire in the Ravenclaw common room, combined with the low purr of the kitten in her lap, made it hard to concentrate on the words. Rose stroked her pet's yellow fur absentmindedly with one hand, holding up the book in the other, utterly determined to finish this chapter without nodding off. The footsteps that approached her blended in with the voices of the other students, the quiet scratching of quills and rustling of parchment, so she didn't notice her friend until he sat in the chair next to her and his hand reached to pet the kitten's head.

"So, you got a cat over the summer," he said.

Rose looked up and smiled at him. Lawrence Desrosiers was a tall, lanky blond, equal parts intelligence and sarcasm. One could hardly tell he was a foreigner most of the time—his English was as excellent as his well-coiffed hair—though on occasion, if he was excited or nervous, he had a tendency to slip into French.

"Oh, that's right, you didn't get to see much of him on the train," she said, remembering that the two of them had to spend the ride in the prefects compartment while the cat remained with her luggage. The kitten leaned into Larry's hand and purred, making her chuckle. "I think he likes you."

"I think I like him too," Larry said, a smile pulling on the corner of his mouth. "What's his name?"

"Fitz," Rose replied.

Larry's eyebrows immediately went up, his smile turning into more of a grin. "Fitz?" he repeated, amused.

"Ah, well, Curly came to visit me over the summer and... convinced me to get him," she said, rather sheepishly. Curran "Curly" Fitzherbert was extremely hard to say no to, partly because he was very persuasive, and partly because he was as stubborn as a mule when convinced he was right. "You know how he is."

Larry nodded. "Curly can convince the devil to go skiing." After a small pause, he added, "And it would probably be the best vacation of the devil's life."

The two Ravenclaws laughed.

"This was his birthday gift to me." Rose held up the book on pet care she was reading. "He thought a pet would do me some good. My parents weren't very happy, especially after the fourth vase he broke," she continued with a glance down at Fitz, stroking him affectionately. "He has _so_ much energy." The kitten swiped at her hand playfully.

"Takes after his namesake," Larry said, trying not to laugh.

Rose chuckled. "He does."

"Listen, he is terribly cute and all, but we do need to get going," Larry said, scratching Fitz behind the ears. "Lupin is taking this whole Head Boy thing very seriously."

"Oh, right. Prefect rounds," Rose remembered. "I'll just leave this in my room and be down in a bit."

He nodded. "I'll wait for you by the door."

Rose picked up her wayward kitten and her book, and then headed up to the girls' dormitories.

* * *

-O-

"So, how was India?" she asked as the two of them rounded a corner on the third floor fifteen minutes later.

"Oh, it was great. I got to ride an elephant."

Rose's eyes became wide as tea plates. "An elephant? Really? I've never seen one before. What was that like? Did you measure its ears? I read they're wider than a full arm's length."

Larry laughed. "I didn't whip out measuring tape and go for the ears, no. The ride made me kind of sick, actually." He grimaced at the memory. "So much worse than flying carpets."

"Are flying carpets smoother?" Rose asked.

"Yeah. You've never been on one?" he said, surprised. She shook her head. "I'll buy you one for Christmas, then. We can ride it around Hogwarts."

Now it was her turn to laugh. "Larry, flying carpets are illegal here. They're classified as Muggle objects."

His eyebrows went up in surprise. "Really? Well, you'll just have to come visit me in France, then. The grounds of my father's estate are beautiful from a bird eye's view."

Rose's eyes wandered to the ground. "I'm sure they are, and I would love to see them... But I'm not sure my father would let me travel abroad." Or anywhere.

He frowned. "They can't keep you in that manor forever."

She looked away. "I meant to ask you, by the way, if you've seen Moe today? I waited for him in the library for our Arithmancy study session, but he never showed up. That's not like him." Rose was usually the one to help other people with their studies, but things were getting difficult with the high number of NEWTs she was taking. Moses North was brilliant with numbers, and had offered to help when he saw the pressure she was under.

"Oh, uh, about that..." Larry eyed her wearily. "Don't freak out, but he's actually in the Hospital Wing at the moment."

Her head snapped to look at him. "Hospital Wing?!" she exclaimed, freaking out. "Is he okay?"

"He is, he is," Larry said hastily. "They're just keeping him overnight. You know, hospital rules."

"Why? What happened?" Rose insisted, heart hammering in her chest.

"It wasn't that serious," he said. "Just one of his experiments went slightly wrong."

"Slightly?" Rose interrupted, stopping in her tracks. "He's in a hospital!"

"It's okay, Curly was there," Larry repeated reassuringly, coming to a stop as well and turning to face her. "A spell backfired, that's all."

"Curly is not a Healer yet," Rose said grumpily, though the fear subsided – she had full confidence in Curly's magical abilities. "How bad is it? Have you seen him?"

Larry nodded. "A few burns, nothing major. He's fine. A bit roughed up, maybe, but he'll live." Rose grimaced at that. "He's been through worse," Larry reminded her. "And he's tough; he can take it."

"That doesn't make this okay," she countered sourly. Rose was aware that she was a bit coddling towards Moses, a boy who was nearly two heads taller than her and almost twice as broad, but could not help herself. She looked out the window, eyes soaring to the Hospital Wing. The lights were on inside. Was Moe there, she wondered? Was he that shadow on the left?

"Hey." Larry's voice brought her back to the here and now. "Is that a student?"

Rose followed his gaze down to the courtyard. A light crawled across the grounds, bobbing up and down as it went along.

"I don't know," she said slowly. "This doesn't look like wand light..." She turned to look at him. "And why is it green?"

His eyes remained on the strange glow. "Only one way to find out," he said. "Come on."

"Wait!" Rose grabbed a hold of his sleeve. "Shouldn't we tell the teachers? I mean... what if it's not a student?"

Larry looked at her. "By the time we do, they'll get away. And besides that, we are prefects, Rose, this is why we have rounds in the first place." He hesitated for a moment, then said, "If you're scared... you can wait for me here? I'll be back quickly."

She shook her head firmly. "If you're going – I'm going."

He gave her a reassuring smile. "I'm sure it's just someone sneaking out of bed after curfew. Hogwarts is the safest place in the world, right?"

She nodded, still unsure. "Right." Besides, Larry was with her. What could go wrong? "Let's go."

* * *

-O-

The chilly September breeze whipped her blonde locks behind her shoulders as Rose followed Larry out the big oak door of the school. The distant light was now gleaming behind a window in Greenhouse Two. She had a very bad feeling about this but kept up with her friend, hand gripping the end of her wand. As they approached, he slowed their pace down, taking care to step as lightly as possible.

When they made it to the door, Rose pulled on his sleeve and whispered, "Look." It was slightly ajar.

The two teens exchanged a look, and Larry reached for the door, pushing it gently. Rose went in after him, the feeling of dread intensifying with each step. At the very bottom of the Greenhouse, where Professor Longbottom's office was located, another door lay open, flooding the room with soft green light.

"They managed to get into a Professor's office…" Larry muttered. Rose felt very uneasy.

The two prefects slipped inside and crept silently by a row of huge pots, bending down to hide in the plants. The light was now stationary, and the low rustling of paper sounded in the empty Greenhouse. Rose peeked between the foliage.

The intruder's back was turned to her, as their lantern—the source of the odd green light—was perched on top of Professor Longbottom's desk. They were wearing a long hooded cloak, dark blue in colour, which moved as they opened drawers and rifled through papers. Fear rose up in Rose's chest – blue cloaks were definitely not part of the school uniform. She looked to Larry, unsure of what to do.

"On three," he mouthed, holding up his wand. She nodded. "One." He stood up. "Tw— _Ugh!_ " A Venomous Tentacula vine, which had silently wrapped around them, pulled them back abruptly, effectively squeezing the air out of their lungs.

" _Diffindo!_ " Rose croaked. The vine fell to the ground, and so did she, crumpling to her knees. Larry reached for her arm and helped her up, but it was too late – the cloaked figure had spotted them.

It turned around sharply, and its elbow bumped into Professor Longbottom's beloved Mimbulus Mimbletonia, which stood on the far right end of the desk. The cactus immediately started oozing stinksap over the piece of parchment the cloaked person was holding, evoking a disgusted sound from them as they dropped it and reached inside a brown satchel hanging from their shoulder. There was a hiss, a low metallic sound as something rolled onto the floor, and with a flourish of the cloak, the figure ducked under the desk.

Then came the explosion.

A white flash blinded Rose completely. Her body was thrown back by the impact, colliding with the clay pots behind her, which broke under her weight. A high-pitched noise drowned out everything else, accompanied by a sharp, pulsating pain in her head. For a few minutes all she could do was lay in the dirt, waiting for the world to take solid shape again. Something moved below her and crawled up her leg, but with another smudged flash of light, it slithered off. Through the noise, she could hear a distant, muffled voice calling for her. Rose forced her wandering consciousness to focus. A hand gripped her shoulder, shaking it gently.

"Rose! Rose, say something, are you okay?"

She pushed herself up into a sitting position, her head spinning like a top. "Larry?" she muttered.

A figure loomed over her, smudged and out of focus. "Come on." His arm wrapped around her and pulled her up. "We need to get you out of here."

Rose staggered and leaned on him, her kneecaps about as firm as butter. Broken glass crunched under her shoes as they made their way across the oddly bright greenhouse and over a broken wall. The cold air helped her concentrate, and she noticed it was easier to breathe. Looking over her shoulder, Rose finally registered that Professor Longbottom's office was on fire.

Once they were far enough away, Larry set her back on the ground. "Are you hurt?" he asked, moving a few locks of hair from her face.

"I don't think so... Just dizzy," she replied. "You?"

"Other than the broken eardrums and the burnt retinas?" he said dryly, but then added in a more serious tone, "I'm fine."

Rose quickly inspected him for injuries. "Your sleeve is torn," she noted. The rush of panic did not help her spinning head as her eyes snapped to his, wide with concern. "And there's blood."

"The Tentacula," he said dismissively. "We crashed into it. It did not take it well." Rose frowned at his tone and rolled up the sleeve. There were long, red scratches along his arm, but nothing too serious. "I'm lucky I didn't get hit when the glass exploded," he added.

They both turned towards the Greenhouse. Tall flames danced inside the room as various leaves, vines and other appendages flailed in the inferno, throwing long shadows on the ground. Thick, black smoke rose from the broken glass walls, towering up into the dark sky. One of Professor Longbottom's purple Umbrella Flowers fell from the ceiling and straight into the burning blaze.

Larry sprang to his feet. "We have to put out the fire!"

"Wait, Larry, it's dangerous!" Rose said.

"We can't just let the whole Greenhouse burn! All the plants will die!" Without waiting for her, Larry sprinted towards the fire, whipping out his wand. " _Aguamenti!_ " A stream of water erupted from the tip, dousing some of the desk. But it was not enough.

Rose stood up on shaky knees and took out her wand. Water. She had to make water. " _Agua..._ " she whispered weakly. " _Agua... Agua..._ " She knew the spell. She had mastered it when her studies required it, but she had never, ever used it outside the classroom. " _Agua..._ " Her fingers gripped the wand so hard it hurt. The more she tried to picture water, the higher fear clawed up her chest, suffocating her. She had to help Larry. She had to help him... but she couldn't.

"I'll go get the teachers!" Rose turned round and ran towards the castle like the coward she was.

She still felt weak, but her legs carried her faster and faster, first to the Entrance Hall, then up the marble staircase and all the way to the third floor, the closest teacher's rooms. When she reached the Defence Against the Dark Arts office, she stopped to catch her breath. As she expected, there was faint music coming from inside.

Rose banged against the door. "Professor Smith!"

There was a sound of a needle scratching to a halt, and the music stopped. Unnaturally quick footsteps padded over the floor, and the door swung open.

"Rose!" Professor Smith exclaimed in his thick southern American accent, taking the Blood-Flavoured lollipop out of his mouth. "Is everythin' okay?"

"There's a fire... In the Greenhouse..." Rose wheezed in-between breaths. "Professor… Longbottom's… office."

Professor Smith's red eyes instantly grew serious and snapped to the window behind her, where a pillar of black smoke could be seen, rising in the distance. "Poppy!" he said, turning around. With a hurried shuffle, his House Elf came to his side. "Go wake up Professor McGonagall. Tell her there's a fire in the greenhouses. Then wake up Professors Clearwater and Longbottom, in that order, and tell them the same."

"Yes, Sir!" Poppy squeaked, winking out of view.

Professor Smith threw the lollipop in the rubbish and closed the door.

* * *

-O-

Rose's lungs felt like they might collapse at any moment, but she still ran, forcing her legs to move. When the Greenhouse was finally in view, her eyes immediately widened in panic, because Larry was nowhere to be seen. As she approached, she heard him cough and saw in the firelight his silhouette bumbling inside.

"Larry!"

Rose leapt straight into the smoke.

"Rose, don't!" Professor Smith called after her, but she didn't listen.

The black smoke inside was so thick her eyes immediately watered, making it impossible to see. Luckily, Larry's cough was still audible over the crackling of the fire. She found him hunched over the desk, one arm coiled around Professor Longbottom's Mimbulus Mimbletonia. Rose wrapped an arm under his and pulled him up, stumbling towards the exit.

When they made it to a safe distance, she stopped, and they both coughed for a few minutes, clearing their lungs from the toxic air.

"Why were you in there?" she said hoarsely, looking him over. His face was flushed and covered in cinder, but there weren't any obvious burns.

"Professor Longbottom's Mimbletonia," he replied, coughing some more. "I couldn't put out the fire… It was going to burn."

"You went in there for _a cactus_?" Rose exclaimed incredulously. "What is wrong with you? And if the ceiling had collapsed? If the fire spread too quickly? What were you thinking?!" He didn't answer, but she didn't need him to. As level-headed as he normally was, she knew that plants were a special matter to him. Her eyes softened. "Don't pull stunts like that," she said quietly. "You scared me half to death."

Larry held her gaze for a moment, before replying in the same muted voice. "I'm sorry."

"Brian!"

Rose and Larry turned to look at the figures of Professors McGonagall, Clearwater and Longbottom, quickly approaching from the castle. The fire raging in the greenhouse had almost completely died down. While Rose was busy hauling Larry outside, Professor Smith had used a wind funnel spell to suck the oxygen out of the room instead of trying to put it out with water.

"Brian!" Professor McGonagall repeated breathlessly. "What is going on? Why is there a fire in Professor Longbottom's office?"

"Ah, Minerva," Professor Smith replied lightly, flashing her a fangy grin. "I was just putting the finishing touches on Neville's new office. I think I have a real _flair_ for decoratin', wouldn't you say?"

"Do not crack jokes at a time like this!" McGonagall scolded him. "What happened here?"

"Waltz! Desrosiers!" Professor Clearwater said, running over to the two students. "Are you both okay?" They nodded. She gripped each of their shoulders. "Why were you outside the castle? Did you see who set the fire?"

"I think we would all love to hear 'bout that," Professor Smith said, approaching with the Headmistress. Longbottom, who was inspecting the damage to his office, tore himself away to join them.

"Well, we…" Rose started hesitantly, shooting a look at Larry. "We were doing our prefect rounds, and we saw a light through the window. We thought it was students sneaking out of bed, so… we came to investigate."

"And?" Clearwater prompted. "What did you see?"

"There was someone," Larry continued, "going through Professor Longbottom's desk. We couldn't see who it was, they were wearing a hood." The teachers exchanged worried glances. "We tried to stop them, but… the Venomous Tentacula got us," Larry admitted.

Clearwater shot Longbottom a glare.

"My office is not meant for students to wander in," he said defensively.

"And yet, two of mine almost died because of the inappropriately dangerous plants you keep in there!" she returned angrily.

"My plants," Longbottom said hotly, "are locked behind spells! And they…" His voice softened a bit as he glanced at the charred remnants of his office. "They're mostly gone now." The sorrow in his voice was heartbreaking.

"I'm sorry, buddy," Smith said, patting his shoulder.

"Ah… Professor?" Larry said, stepping towards Longbottom. "I… I did save one." He held up the cactus.

Professor Longbottom's eyes moved to the plant, and Rose could swear she could see tears in them.

"My Mimbulus Mimbletonia," Longbottom said gently, taking the pot as if it were a wounded animal. "How…?" He looked to Larry, barely containing himself. "Thank you, Larry." He raised his hand to pet it, and the cactus made an odd crooning sound. "Fifty points to Ravenclaw."

Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow. "Fifty? For saving a cactus?"

Longbottom threw her an incredulous look, making Smith try to stifle snort. "For preserving a valuable specimen! And," his gaze moved to Larry, his mouth stretching into a grateful smile, "a precious personal possession."

Larry happily returned the smile, blushing slightly.

"I think we can all agree that some points are merited here," Smith said, glancing at Rose. "Ten points to Miss Waltz for the speedy warning."

"Not that I want to stop you from giving my House more points," Clearwater cut in, "but these two need to get some sleep. Now," she turned towards the prefects, "is there anything more you want to add before I send you off to bed?"

Rose shook her head, but Larry nodded.

"Oh, yes! I almost forgot." He rummaged through his robes, producing an odd metal cylinder. "I tripped on this. I think the cloaked person dropped it."

Professor Clearwater's face suddenly gained a worried look, reflected by the other teachers. "Junk," she declared firmly, growing serious.

"But, Professor…"

"I'll get rid of it," she said, snatching it from Larry's hand. "Now, if that's everything…?"

"Yes," McGonagall said. "Take these two to Ravenclaw Tower. They have earned some rest."

Professor Clearwater gathered them up and led them towards the castle, while the other teachers returned their attention to the burned office. If she had to be honest, Rose was happy to be heading up to bed – she was so tired it was a wonder she hadn't fallen asleep on her feet yet. The trek up to the Tower only served to strengthen that feeling, leaving her out of breath again. She didn't even pay attention to the knocker's riddle, or the answer Clearwater gave.

It was only after the teacher left and Larry was about to head up that she spoke again. "Larry?" He stopped halfway up the staircase. "I…" She looked away in shame. "I'm sorry that I left. When you were trying to put out the fire."

He stared at her in confusion. "You went to get Smith, didn't you? It's not like you were drinking tea with the House Elves."

She shook her head. "But I should have stayed with you. I should have helped you, I just…" Her voice grew quieter. "I was too scared."

Larry came back down the stairs. "From the fire?"

Rose shook her head again, and her gaze finally met his. "From the water."

His eyes widened in realisation. "Water! I'd forgotten… Rose, I'm so sorry. I wouldn't' have… I would never ask you to…"

"You were trying to save the greenhouse," she interrupted. "And I wanted to help, I really did, but… I couldn't. So I went to get the teachers instead."

He reached for her hand. "It was the right thing to do. The fire was burning too intensely, I just wanted to save the plants… You were right, I don't know what I was thinking. I should have been smarter about this." His fingers gave hers a light squeeze. "Telling the teachers was smart."

His words made her feel better, and she gave him a slight smile. "I guess… Did it seem odd to you that they wanted to get rid of the cylinder? I mean, it was a huge clue, and now we'll never know what it was."

"Well." Larry grinned. "I don't really like the sound of the word 'never'." He let go of her and reached into his robes, pulling out the strange object. "How about 'now'?"

Rose gasped and took the cylinder in her hands. "How did you get this? I thought Clearwater had it."

"She did," he said. "But I don't like it when people take things away from me for no reason. So I took it back."

Rose shot him a reprimanding look, but her attention quickly returned to the object. It was black, seemingly made of metal, with holes spaced out through it in equal intervals. "Do you know what it is?"

He shook his head. "No idea. Do you?"

"No…" she drawled thoughtfully, turning it in her hands. "But I can at least find out what metal this is. Do you mind if I keep it overnight?"

"No," he said, "but get some rest tonight. Mystery-solving can wait until morning."

Rose was about to protest, but she could feel a yawn coming. "Good point. See you tomorrow?"

Larry nodded. "Tomorrow. Goodnight, Rose."

"Goodnight."

And with that they both headed up to their respective dormitories for some way overdue sleep.


	2. Chapter 2

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 2**

The experiments yielded nothing.

Well, nothing helpful, at least. Rose spent the entire Sunday morning bent over her Alchemy table, mixing different solutions and carefully applying a few drops at a time to the cylinder's surface, watching it change colour and noting things down on a piece of parchment. The results revealed that the outside case was made of steel, while the perforated places bore traces of melted aluminium on the inside. This cylinder, Rose concluded, had consisted of two layers, with the inner one having melted away, possibly because of the fire. These revelations, however, though fascinating, did nothing to clear up what this object was used _for_.

She went down to the common room around lunchtime to find Larry and tell him of her discoveries, or lack thereof, but he wasn't there. He wasn't in the Great Hall, either, nor were Curly and Moe. Rose sat down at the Ravenclaw table and slid an omelette onto her plate. _He could be in the library_ , she mused, bringing a forkful to her mouth. That was his usual haunt if he wasn't in the tower or with the other two. Curly had Quidditch practice on Sundays, and Moe... Moe was probably still in the Hospital Wing. She glanced at the plate of treacle tarts next to the pumpkin juice. Moe really liked those... Her thoughts bent in his direction. Although Larry had tried to reassure her, Rose just couldn't shake this gnawing sense of worry. She wanted to make sure Moe was okay, and maybe ask for his opinion on the strange object. It was clear at this point that the teachers would be of no help, but Moses was a tinkerer, an inventor, and this would be right up his alley. Plus, she just really wanted to visit him.

Mind made up, Rose stood, leaving her meal unfinished. The walk to the Hospital Wing was short and uneventful, but she found it empty. With no other choice but to leave, she stalked aimlessly through the halls of Hogwarts, not really sure what to do or if she should look too much into the fact that he wasn't there. Did that mean that he was healing? Or was it more serious than they thought and he had to be moved to St Mungo's? Part of her knew she was being paranoid now, but she couldn't help but worry.

The Ravenclaw stopped next to one of the large windows and leaned on the sill. Greenhouse Two looked good as new, not even a trace of the destruction and chaos from last night. Her blue eyes followed an owl across the sky and over to the Quidditch pitch, where several yellow blurs whizzed about like a swarm of bees. Rose felt herself smiling. Would practice be over by now? No, it didn't look like it. Surely, then, it would be okay for her to watch from the stands? Unless they thought she was a Ravenclaw spy… Professor Clearwater was known for her competitiveness when it came to Quidditch. But, she thought, Teddy would know better, and if the Captain allowed it wouldn't it be fine? Rose slowly backed away from the window. Yes, she decided, it should be okay.

It was one of those rare sunny September days, and Rose revelled in the warm sunshine as she crossed the grounds. Truth be told, she'd never cared too much about Quidditch; the only matches she had ever seen live—and cheered in—were the ones Curly played, and she didn't bother with the others unless he dragged her to them. Still, it was impossible not to smile as she watched him goof off on the broom, feigning a pratfall to amuse his teammates.

When she was close enough, he saw her approach and waved enthusiastically. She waved back, admittedly with a lot less gumption, and climbed the stands, picking out a nice, high place to observe from. After about ten minutes of passing the Quaffle around, he said something to one of the other Chasers and flew over.

"Rose!" Curly said, smiling broadly as he hovered on the other side of the parapet, his brown hair tousled from the wind and his hazel eyes shining brightly. "This is a surprise. Did I finally convince you to try out for the Ravenclaw team?"

Rose huffed, amused. "And spend hours on a long stick, getting battered by the elements? No, thank you. I have better things to do with my time."

"The brooms have cushioning charms!" he protested in mock-offence. "And what could possibly be a better use of your time than flying?" Curly laughed lightly and brushed the subject aside, adding, "So did you come just to admire my amazing skills, then? Because you forgot the banner."

Her face flushed at the reminder. "I couldn't carry it on my own," she muttered, sending him into peals of laughter.

"Were you really gonna bring it?" Curly asked in disbelief when he could draw breath again.

Rose pouted. "Don't be silly." Last time it took both her, Larry and Moe to even hold it up – the thing was three meters long and half as wide. "We only did it that one time, and it was because it was the Championship game."

He was about to say something, but right at that point a Quaffle smacked into his head.

"Ow!" Curly managed to catch the ball before it plummeted to the ground and turned around, rubbing the side of his face. "What was that for?" he whined when his assailant, Teddy Lupin, swooped down and brought his broom to a halt next to him.

The Head Boy's hair was a brilliant shade of emerald today, which went very nicely with the yellow of his Quidditch robes. "Keep your eye on the ball, Fitzherbert," Teddy said playfully.

"I _am_ keeping it on the ball. See, I have two eyes – one on the ball and one on Rose." Curly went cross-eyed to illustrate his point.

Rose managed to hold her giggle back to a smile, but Teddy laughed.

"There'll be plenty of time to flirt _after_ practice, kid," the Head Boy said. "Though if crossing your eyes is the best you've got, your game needs serious work."

"I'm not flirting," Curly said, "I'm just talking to Rose. And you're only nine months older than me!"

" _Older_ ," Teddy emphasised, grinning. "And Head Boy. And your Captain. So leave the sweet talk for later and get back on the pitch."

"Erm..." Rose piped up. "Actually, Teddy, I really do need to talk to him. It's important. Can he please stay for a few minutes?"

Teddy looked to her, and his sardonic expression softened. He sighed. "Practice will be over in ten anyway." Then he turned to Curly. "You're lucky your friend is so nice, Curly."

"I'm lucky you can't resist a pair of big blue eyes, you mean," Curly teased, dodging the playful grab from his Captain with a laugh. "You don't leave the sweet talk with Victoire until after practice," he added, backing up in the air, still laughing. Teddy gave chase, and after a short pursuit had Curly back against a corner of the stands. "I give, I give!" Curly said, holding up his hands in surrender. "I'm sorry!" Teddy, however, was not completely convinced of the sincerity of this apology, and with a flick of his wand turned Curly's hair into slugs. "It's so sliiiiimyyy," Curly whined, drawing out vowels as he slowly drifted back to Rose, slug-hair jiggling in the wind.

She shook her head, barely keeping back a laugh. "That's what you get for being cheeky," she said, taking out her own wand. "You didn't have to provoke him." She traced a familiar motion through the air, turning his hair back to normal. " _Reparifarge!_ " Thanks to both Teddy and Larry's habit of dishing out transfiguration-driven revenge whenever Curly annoyed them, the untransfiguration spell had become almost second nature to her.

"But it was funny," Curly said, pouting, and ran a hand through his hair. "And true." Then he looked to Rose, sobering up. "Forget about that. You said you had something important to tell me. What's up?"

The smile slipped from her face. "It's about Moe, actually," she said. "Larry told me about the accident. He said you were with him when it happened… Is he okay?"

Curly's serious expression morphed into a reassuring smile. "He's fine. I was helping him out with that new instant messaging project of his, so I was able to administer some first aid on the spot."

"Is that the thing with the lantern and the Floo powder?" Rose asked.

He nodded. "Yup. He miscalculated the amount of Floo powder he needed, and… the fire got a _tiny_ bit out of hand." Rose almost groaned. Curly always tried to downplay things that had gone horribly wrong with diminutives. Seeing her expression, he added quickly, "Just a few minor burns, I swear. Nothing long-lasting. Well. Not longer than a few weeks. Tops."

Rose dropped her head in her hand and sat down. Minor burns wouldn't have necessitated a visit to Madam Longbottom, and only second-degree and up required more than a week to heal.

Curly got off the broomstick and sat next to her. "He'll be okay," he said. "Moe's been inventing since he was three; he knows the risks. And it won't scar, I made sure of that."

Rose sighed. "I believe you," she said. "I just… I wish I could see him. He wasn't in the Hospital Wing this morning."

Curly threw a glance at his broom. "Well… we can go see him now?"

She looked to him, raising an eyebrow skeptically. "And how would we bypass the portrait? Unless you know a secret way into Gryffindor Tower?"

He grinned. "As a matter of fact, I do." Standing up, he swung his leg over the broom again and patted the wood behind him. "I know exactly which window his dorm is. Hop on."

Rose stood up but did not approach, eyeing the broom wearily. "Er… I… I don't think…"

"Come on," Curly urged, extending his hand out to her. "We won't go in, so we _technically_ won't be breaking the rules. We'll just talk from the window."

"It… It's not that…" Rose looked at the floor, embarrassed. "Curly, I… I've never actually flown on a broomstick before."

His jaw fell open. "Seriously?" She nodded, eyes still on her shoes. "But you… you're a pureblood! You've never been on a broom; how is that possible?"

"My parents never let me ride one," she confessed quietly. "It was too dangerous and inappropriate, and…" Her eyes finally rose to meet his. "What if I fall?"

He wiped the surprise from his face, gaining a more serious expression. Reaching over, he took her hand and gently drew her closer. "You are not going to fall," he said. "I would catch you if you started to." The corner of his mouth twitched upwards as he added, "Though I could conjure you a helmet if you want?"

Rose rolled her eyes at that. "And what good would a helmet be if I fell from twenty feet up?"

Curly chuckled. "You aren't going to. I'll go really slow, I promise."

Rose's eyes darted to the broom apprehensively. Then they moved to him. She took a deep breath, then exhaled slowly. "Okay." If there was anything that came to her as easily as breathing, it was trusting Curly. Gingerly sitting behind him, she wrapped her arms loosely around his waist.

"Ready?" he asked.

She nodded, and the broom rose smoothly in the air. Rose watched the solid, safe ground get further and further away, and clung to Curly for dear life. The ascent slowed.

"Don't look down," Curly said.

Rose pressed her face to his back. Even when she couldn't see, there was an unpleasant feeling at the bottom of her stomach. "It's not helping," she mumbled into his robes.

"Okay," he said after a small pause. "Then look up! See, that cloud over there looks like a bunny!" His arm moved to point somewhere to the left.

Rose slowly peeked over his shoulder. "That looks nothing like a bunny!" she protested.

"No, no, it does," Curly insisted. "See, that there is the ear... If you kind of squint at it and turn your head to the right a bit."

Rose unwittingly did as he said. "I think your imagination is running too wild."

"Fine then, what does it look like to you?"

Rose thought about her answer for a moment. "It kind of looks like a ship," she said. "That part over there is the sails..." Her hand let go of him and made an outlying motion in the air. "And that is the mast."

Curly threw her a look over his shoulder and grinned. "I guess you're right. Oh well, I lose, that looked nothing like a bunny after all. Must've been my imagination." He turned forward and pointed again. "What about that one?"

This cloud watching game continued for a while, with his suggestions becoming more and more outlandish (how could a cloud look like a sneeze?!). When they neared Gryffindor Tower, he drew her attention to the row of windows near the top and said, "That one over there is the sixth years' dorm."

Rose looked up, surprised at how short the ride seemed. When they levelled with the windows, Curly reached over and tapped his knuckles against the glass in a suspiciously specific pattern. It dawned on her that this was probably not the first time he had done this.

Feet shuffled somewhere inside, and a tall, broad-shouldered boy in a dark green t-shirt appeared on the other side of the glass. His distinctive eyebrows, usually locked in a scary-looking frown, now travelled up his forehead in surprise as he opened the window and leaned out.

"C-C-Curly! R-Rose!" he stuttered, his mouth stretching into a wide grin. "W-What are you d-d-doing here?"

"I'm just the chauffeur," Curly quipped, tipping an imaginary hat.

Rose ignored him, her eyes immediately darting to Moe's right arm, covered to the elbow in white bandages. Her arms came away from Curly and reached for the windowsill. "I wanted to see how you were," she said. "Curly and Larry said you're okay, but... I wanted to make sure."

"O-Oh." Moe's face went redder than a fire hydrant. "Yeah, I'm f-f-f–I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" Rose asked, eyeing the bandages again. "This doesn't look like 'minor burns'." She threw an accusing look at Curly.

"Hey!" the Hufflepuff protested. "Just because he's well bandaged, that doesn't mean I lied!"

Moe's embarrassed gaze dropped to his shoes. "It's doesn't h-hurt," he mumbled.

Rose smiled slightly. "I'm glad," she said, pulling back from the window to give him space.

She felt a little bad. Moe was painfully shy as it was, and here she was, fussing over him, making things worse. The Ravenclaw started thinking of ways to put him more at ease and remembered the cylinder still hidden in the folds of her robes. "Oh, I meant to ask you," she said, taking it out and holding it up to him. "Have you ever seen anything like this?"

The Gryffindor's embarrassment instantly gave way to a look of intense concentration as he took the object from her hand and turned it around a few times, examining all angles with an air of professional curiosity. Rose could almost see the cogs in his genius mind turn as he assessed it.

"This is an M84 concussion grenade," Moe said confidently. "Military grade. US issue. Has a pyrotechnic charge inside that causes a subsonic deflagration. Explodes with 170–180 decibels and a blinding flash of more than one million candela within five feet of initiation." He paused, frowning deeply. "It's gone off." His eyes locked with Rose's. "Where did you get this?" he demanded.

"Deflagration?" Rose echoed. "So that must be what caused the fire, then. The person Larry and I saw last night must have detonated it somehow."

Moe's forehead wrinkled in mute shock, but Curly almost fell off the broom.

"SOMEONE THREW A GRENADE AT YOU AND LARRY?!" the Hufflepuff exclaimed, almost frantic. "Why didn't you say anything?! Why didn't he?!" Curly twisted around, as if he expected to spot Larry casually floating around Gryffindor Tower. "When did this happen? Are you both okay?"

"We're both okay," she reassured them quickly, eyes darting from one to the other. "Someone broke into Professor Longbottom's office last night. Larry and I caught them and... and they used this _grenade_ on us. He found the cylinder afterwards, but we had no idea what it was..."

Moe huffed. "Of course two purebloods like you would have no clue." It was apparent by his tone that he thought they should have given it to him right away. "It's a flashbang," Moe added. "Intended for use in crowd control."

Rose's confusion must have shown on her face, because Curly elaborated. "It's a Muggle weapon. It's like a blasting curse, kind of." He eyed Moe with playful suspicion. "And how come you can identify grenades at first glance? Did you secretly pull a Tony Stark on us?"

This last sentence confused Rose even more, but she didn't say anything.

The blush returned to Moe's face, and he looked down again. "Uh... v-video games."

Curly laughed. Rose gave up on trying to decipher what they were saying and didn't dwell on it.

"So this grenade thing," she said, returning on topic. "You said 'military'. So the intruder was a soldier?"

Curly and Moe sobered up and exchanged a glance.

"Not necessarily," Moe said. "There are... other ways to g-get them."

"Illegal ways," Curly added.

Rose did not like this one bit. "We need to find Larry."

* * *

-O-

Larry glanced at the tall grandfather clock and put a bookmark in his current read. He'd spent the majority of Sunday morning in what was unofficially 'their' corner of the Library, waiting for Rose to find him. Since it was nearly noon now and she hadn't, he figured she was still working on the cylinder. Curiosity gnawed at him, but he knew that she needed her space to work, and that she'd know where to look if she had something to tell him.

Putting the book back in his bag, the Ravenclaw prefect shuffled out of the Library, heading to the Great Hall for lunch. Right at the door, however, he almost got mowed down by Professor Longbottom, who was carrying a big wooden chest.

"Oops! Didn't see you there, Larry," Longbottom said, adjusting the load in his arms.

" _Ce n'est rien,_ Professor," Larry said, eyeing it with curiosity. "Is this for a new plant?"

Longbottom smiled brightly. "It is! I'm doing a bit of redecorating in my office. Desks and glass are easy enough to fix, but plants..." He trailed off, staring into the distance for a moment. Then, remembering himself, he smiled and said, "I don't suppose you're free for the afternoon? A friend sent me a few very interesting new specimens from abroad; I could use some help potting them."

"Of course!" Larry exclaimed without thinking. "I'd love to help."

Longbottom grinned. "Atta boy. Follow me, then."

Larry threw a guilty look towards the Great Hall but trailed after the Herbology professor, thinking he would catch up with Rose tonight.

The office in Greenhouse Two felt oddly empty. A look towards the ceiling had the Ravenclaw smile slightly, seeing that a few of the Umbrella Flowers had survived. The other plants… were not as lucky. Empty pots of all shapes and sizes stood in neat lines along the glass wall, awaiting new inhabitants, and large sacks of compost were piled in front of Longbottom's charred desk. Larry guessed the professor hadn't had time to fix it yet, prioritising his plants instead. Not that he blamed him.

"My friend Luna," Longbottom started, putting the chest down on his desk, "is researching some new species of Billywigs down in South Africa, and she sent me these seedlings a couple of weeks ago. She said they grow to be very beautiful." He tapped his palm on the lid of a wooden box perched atop his work table, surrounded by a mess of dirt-covered gardening tools. Popping the lid open, the professor picked out a sample and handed it to Larry. "These, she says, have rainbow-coloured leaves."

The Ravenclaw took the plastic bag and examined the seeds against the sunlight. Their pearly white colour changed slightly as it caught the light in different angles. "How long is the blooming cycle?"

"Twenty-eight days," Longbottom replied, returning to the chest and opening that as well. The inside was full of neatly arranged flasks. "Professor Moore lent me some growth potions… I've always been rubbish at potion-making," Longbottom said.

Larry gave him a sheepish grin. "Me too."

"Let's get to it, then," the professor said, sitting cross-legged on the floor. Larry was quick to join him as he levitated a few of the bigger pots over to them, along with two pairs of worn gardening gloves and two spades. "We can start with the Rainbow Seeds."

They had barely filled in the pots when heavy footsteps shook the earth and Hagrid, the Care of Magical Creatures professor, appeared at the door, his face obscured by the top of the frame.

"How're yeh doin', Neville?" the giant said merrily, bending down so he could fit through the door. When he saw Larry, he smiled and waved at him. "Hope I'm not interruptin'?"

"Not at all," Longbottom said with a smile, rising from the ground as Larry waved back.

"I brought those Bowtruckles yeh wanted," Hagrid said, opening the front of his coat, where two tiny, beady eyes popped from an inside pocket, small, needle-like fingers curling over the rim.

"Ah, excellent," Longbottom said, approaching. "Let me show you the Wiggentree…" He turned back and added quickly to his student, "I'll only be a second, Larry, you can start without me."

Larry nodded, watching the teachers leave the room. He threw a guilty glance at the spot where the Venomous Tentacula had tried to eat them last night, and thought bitterly that if he had just listened to Rose and staid in the castle that fire wouldn't have happened. His eyes stopped by the tall pile of compost sacks, and something near the bottom caught his attention. Standing up, he walked over and retrieved the piece of parchment that had fallen under the desk. His fingers felt slimy when he touched it, and he transferred the note to his other hand, wiping them in his robes in disgust. With a frown at the green substance, Larry's attention returned to the stained letter, glossing over the contents to fix on the signature at the bottom. _Harry_.

The Ravenclaw's eyes darted back to the stains over the words, and he brought his fingers to his nose, grimacing instantly. Stinksap.

"Alright, I'll see you for tea on Wednesday." Longbottom's voice made Larry jump and drop the letter. He scrambled to retrieve it just as the professor entered the office once again. "What have you got there?" he said, walking over.

Larry, flustered, voluntarily gave him the parchment. "It was on the floor," he said quickly.

Longbottom scanned the contents, lingering on the stains. Then he brought it closer to his face and sniffed it.

"It's stinksap," Larry said. "Professor, I think—"

"Thank you for finding this," Longbottom cut him off, shoving the letter in his desk drawer. "I really should be more careful with my stuff, I always forget one thing or another."

"Professor," Larry insisted, "I don't think you're the one who dropped this. I think the person last night was looki—"

"It's just a letter from a friend, Larry," Longbottom interrupted again, going back to the pots. His steps were sharp, tense, and there was a firm finality to his voice. "It must have fallen out of my pocket. Now, these plants grow in tropical conditions, so we'll have to put a small charm on the pots."

Larry wanted to protest, but thought better of it and joined Longbottom on the ground. He did not believe that excuse, not even for a second, but there was no use arguing. It was perfectly clear to him that Longbottom was trying to hide something, just like Clearwater. And he was determined to find out what.

* * *

-O-

Hours later, exhausted but satisfied with his work with the plants, Larry made his way to the Great Hall, hungry like a wolf. After a quick glance at the four tables, he found his friends already gathered together and approached them with a grin.

"Larry!" Rose exclaimed as soon as he sat down next to Moe, looking up from her mashed potatoes. "We've been looking for you all day! Where have you been?"

"Helping Longbottom with his office," Larry said absentmindedly, his attention drawn to the mountains of delicious food. He pulled up a plate with kidney pie and a goblet of orange juice. "Man, I'm hungry. Any progress on the cylinder?" he asked before digging in. He did not miss the look his friends exchanged, and the forkful of pie froze right before reaching his mouth. His eyebrow rose in a question. "I take it that's a yes?"

"That cylinder," Moe answered, his voice lowered conspiratorially, "is from a flashbang grenade."

Larry choked on his food. "What?" His eyes moved from one face to the next. "And you're sure?" He thought grenades were supposed to be green and shaped like pineapples. But, if Moe said so, it had to be true.

"Whoever it was that attacked us last night has access to US military-grade weaponry," Rose said. "This wasn't just a student trying to steal test answers, Larry. They were looking for something, and the teachers _know_ ; you saw the looks on their faces last night. This is serious."

Larry nodded. "I agree." Especially after Longbottom's reaction to the letter. "US weaponry, huh?" he drawled, eyes unwittingly wandering to the teacher's table, lingering on the only American in Hogwarts.

His three friends followed his gaze.

"Nuh-uh," Curly said immediately, crossing his arms. "No way. It wasn't Smith."

Rose eyed him carefully. "Curly, I know you're fond of him, but…"

Moe nodded slowly. "It makes sense. He's said himself he used to be in the US army."

"In the 1800s!" Curly protested. " _Before_ he was bitten!" He turned to Rose. "Plus, wasn't he the one that put out the fire? It couldn't have been him."

"Well, he does have super-human speed," Larry chimed in.

Curly glared at him. "That doesn't prove he's guilty!"

"No one said he was guilty," Larry said in an attempt to placate him. "I just pointed out the connection. It would be stupid to ignore it."

Curly leaned back, making that stubborn face. "It's not him," he said firmly.

Larry, Moe and Rose exchanged a look.

"I'm with Larry," Moe said. "Just because he's the Head of Hufflepuff doesn't m-mean he isn't capable of some sneaky shit; he could have easily made it to his of-ffice before Rose and played innocent. We all know Hufflepuffs are secretly evil masterminds." That last bit was most likely directed at Curly and the many, many shenanigans he'd gotten Moe and Larry into over the years.

Larry nodded. Rose, however, looked to Curly.

"I think..." she said slowly, "I'm with Curly." The arms at his chest loosened as he gave the others a triumphant grin. She turned to Larry. "It just… doesn't seem like Professor Smith to do a thing like that. Plus, why would he need the lantern? He can see perfectly well in the dark. And," she added quickly when Moe made to interrupt, "even if he did have access to modern Muggle weaponry—which we have no reason to believe he does at the moment—why would he need it? He's a wizard as well as a vampire; he can just use magic."

"By that logic," Moe finally cut in, "why would _any_ wizard n-need to bring them?"

"That's a very good point, Moe," Larry said thoughtfully. "Why indeed?" He stared off into the distance.

"It would help, I think," Curly said, resuming his own dinner, "If we knew what the Cloak was trying to steal."

The corner of Larry's mouth quirked up in amusement, but Rose groaned.

"We are not giving that person a stupid nickname," she said, frowning at Curly.

"Aw, come on! It's fun!" the Hufflepuff said."And we do have to call them something."

"I like it," Larry said with a grin. Rose threw him a incredulous look.

"We can't really call him 'the p-p-person in the blue cloak' all the time," Moe added, almost apologetically. "If it even is a guy. I think 'The Cloak' fits."

Rose's eyes darted between them, then she sighed in defeat. " _Fine_."

"And I know exactly how we can find out what the Cloak was after," Larry added, lowering his voice. "We're going to break into Longbottom's office."

The other three stared at him in shock for a second, then said in unison,

" _What?!_ "


	3. Chapter 3

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 3  
**

Greenhouse Two buzzed with the low hum of student voices, gossiping over the latest rumour or bemoaning the mountain of homework Professor Moore had given them this morning. Professor Longbottom silently counted heads, trying to work out how to divide them into equal groups for the lesson.

"Four students to a pot!" Longbottom said loudly over the chatter. "And don't forget the dragon skin gloves!"

Moe, Larry, Rose and Curly huddled over one of the deceptively peaceful-looking Snargaluff stumps and exchanged a tense look.

Larry's stomach squirmed with nerves. What would Longbottom say if he caught them? Would he be angry? Or just sad? Betrayed? Larry couldn't take disappointment on his favourite professor's face.

"Okay," Curly said in a low whisper. "Are we ready to do this?"

Larry, Rose and Moe exchanged an uncertain look over the plant.

"No," Rose said, voicing Larry's thoughts. "I changed my mind; we shouldn't do this. It's a horrible plan."

"It's _your_ plan," Curly reminded her.

"Well, yes, but," Rose floundered, "I don't like it."

Moe glanced at her. "It's a g-good p-p—It's a good plan. It'll work."

Rose bit her lip, eyeing Curly with worry. "I don't know... What if it works too well? I mean... this can go so wrong in _so_ many ways... What if I'm the bait instead? I can scream too."

Moe frowned. "You aren't being bait. We're guys, we can handle it."

"I'm not made of glass," Rose reminded him.

"What Moe means," Larry interjected quickly, "is that we've done reckless stunts like this before." He threw a pointed look at Curly before returning his eyes to her. "You haven't."

"I'll be okay," Curly said reassuringly, squeezing her hand briefly. "I survived a bear... and an Acromantula. How bad can a weed be?"

Larry held in a huff. Those were not the only things Curly had survived, but the spider in particular was a bad example to bring up — Larry still had scars from that encounter. Rose, just like him, did not seem reassured.

"I _really_ don't like this," she echoed.

"We don't have a choice," Curly said. "Larry is the one that knows what to look for, and Moe is the one that can bypass Longbottom's spells. That leaves you and me to be distractions, and we all agree that we're not feeding you to a plant."

"Oh, but we agree to feed _you_?" Rose returned coldly.

"Curly will be fine. That poor plant's probably never had anything as annoying as him in its mouth; it'll spit him out in seconds," Larry said drily, making Moe snort. Curly huffed a laugh and halfheartedly punched him in the shoulder.

Rose ignored them. "We're not actually going to let it get that far, are we?" she said imploringly.

"It needs to be c-c-convincing," Moe said. When he saw Rose pale, he added quickly, "It's really not that dangerous. It m-m—It might bite him a few times, but Longbottom won't let it eat him. He's a war hero, r-remember?"

Rose sighed. Her eyes travelled to the Herbology professor and the tension in her shoulders seemed to relax a little. "Okay," she said, looking between Larry and Moe. "Be careful."

The boys nodded, and Curly rolled up his sleeves. "It's go time," he said. With a silent summoning spell, a giant Venus Flower vine jumped into his hand. He coiled it tightly around his waist and gave it a sharp pull.

The result was instantaneous. Curly yelled at the top of his lungs as the plant jerked him up, waving him about the Greenhouse. A few girls shrieked and panic spread through the clusters of students, who either ran for cover or tried to send spells at the towering green plant.

"Keep calm!" Professor Longbottom shouted over the racket. He tried a few spells, which Rose deftly managed to reflect. A confused expression dawned on his face, but he didn't have time to ponder the sudden ineffectiveness of his magic, as some students tried to inch closer in an attempt to help their classmate, getting a few vines to the face for their trouble.

Curly continued to scream as loud as a fog horn, and Rose fussed and gasped in horror, effectively drawing the attention of the crowd well away from Moe and Larry. The two friends exchanged a determined nod and carefully made their way along the wall, ducking behind the desks and various pots, eyes glued to the back of the Herbology Professor.

"No, Rose, don't!" Longbottom shouted as Rose, in a stroke of genius, 'accidentally' enlarged the vines.

A spark of concern flared inside Larry as he watched the plant tighten its hold on Curly, whose screams died down, his face turning red. Rose's fussing started to sound more and more genuine. Meanwhile, Moe was fiddling with the door of Longbottom's office using some sort of weirdly shaped metal bit sticking out of his wristwatch. After a few more seconds, Larry heard a satisfied grunt, and the door lock clicked.

"You're a genius!" Larry whispered excitedly. A part of him didn't actually believe they would get this far. Or maybe he'd _hoped_ they wouldn't.

"Told you," Moe muttered, grinning. "They never think to secure the doors against Muggle lockpicks."

The two of them threw one last glance at the chaos on the other end of the classroom and slipped inside the office. Once the door clicked shut the outside noise became somewhat muffled, making it easier to think.

"Okay," Moe said, looking around cautiously. "Where do we start?"

"The desk," Larry said immediately, reaching it in two wide strides. "I saw him put it in one of the drawers..." His hand froze in mid-air.

"What is it?" Moe whispered, throwing a worried look at the door. The commotion on the other side grew louder.

Larry frowned. "Magic." The hand reaching for the drawer fell back to his side. "I can practically feel it. Longbottom's put so many enchantments on this thing the air is thick as gravy."

"So? You said you saw him do the spells, that you could—"

"He's added more."

Moe's dark expression matched his friend's. "So wh-what now? Should I try...?"

Larry shook his head. "I don't think it'll work." To test his theory, he tried to put a hand on the handle. His palm met resistance a few inches above the shiny metal knob. "We can't even get near it. I'm gonna have to undo these." He took out his wand.

Moe's face grew worried. "B-but won't that take forever?"

"Probably," Larry said shortly, starting with the easiest spell.

Moe moved closer to the tall plants Professor Longbottom had strategically placed along the glass wall to hide his office from view and peered above the leaves. Larry threw a glance in that direction and saw that the Venus Flower was shaking Curly upside down while some of their classmates were trying to approach the whirlwind of green appendages. Longbottom was shouting and trying to keep everyone at a safe distance, but just as it seemed he might get a handle on the situation, Rose stepped forward to 'help'. Larry tried to concentrate on the spells.

"He's coming!" Moe hissed suddenly and scrambled back, throwing Larry a panicked look.

The Ravenclaw stopped what he was doing and dropped down, finding cover under the desk. Moe tucked himself away in the farthest corner and turned a dial on his watch. Almost immediately the Disillusionment Charm took effect and spread over his body, hiding him from view just as Longbottom burst into the room.

"Okay... Okay..." he muttered under his breath while his trembling hands shuffled the tools atop his work table. "Where are they, where did I put them?!" With a sharp turn, he made toward the desk, wand tracing a wide arch as he approached.

Under the solid wood, Larry tried to fold upon himself, wishing he could disappear. The tails of Longbottom's robes appeared around the corner, and he prepared for the worst.

Suddenly, a loud explosion shattered the glass wall separating the office from the rest of the Greenhouse. Without a word, Longbottom whipped around and ran back into the classroom.

Larry looked up, worry for his friends creeping up his back. Had something gone wrong? Then he felt invisible fingers wrap around his wrist and pull him up as magic spread over his body like a cold, wet blanket, making him transparent.

"What... What was that?" he said, throwing a glance at what remained of the wall. "Curly and Rose?"

"No," Moe's voice whispered somewhere near his ear, "I broke it; they're fi-fine. It looked like Longbottom brought down the wards, grab what you n-need and _let's go_!"

Larry's eyes returned to the desk. "Right." He reached out and pulled the drawer open with no resistance. Rummaging quickly through the various papers, his fingers had just found the spotted bit of parchment he was looking for when an ear-piercing scream cut the air.

"Rose!" Moe muttered, almost in panic, and tugged Larry along. The Ravenclaw was barely able to shut the drawer.

The two made their way out of the office and into the crowd of students, where Moe turned back the dial of his wristwatch, making them visible again. The class was watching helplessly as Professor Longbottom struggled with the plant. He had tried to restrain the vines with ropes connected to the tip of his wand and was huffing, red-faced, with the effort of holding it still. Curly was still being tossed around the Greenhouse, but the Venus Flower had, somehow, gotten its vines around a second student, and it took Larry a second to recognise the blonde struggling in the air.

"Rose!" Larry's mouth exclaimed before he could stop himself.

"Larry," Longbottom grunted, his voice strained. "My desk, bottom left drawer. The wooden box with rare specimen. Get it!"

Larry sprang back and elbowed his way out of the crowd that had closed behind him. Darting in and out at top speed, he shouted, "It's here!" once he had it in his hands. "What now?"

"Ice blossoms," Longbottom said through gritted teeth. "Throw two in its mouth at my signal."

Larry fumbled with the box. There were four ice blossoms in total; he gathered a bit of sleeve into the palm of his hand and gingerly took two, being careful not to touch them with his bare skin. Even through the fabric they were so cold it burned.

"Get ready!" Longbottom said. One of his hands left the wand and curled around a pair of pruning shears. Without the support, the ropes holding the plant fell away and it broke loose. Vines whipped every which way, making the class shriek. Longbottom threw the shears, which collided with the base of the big, red blossom. The Venus Flower burped.

"Now!"

Larry was not very quidditch-inclined, but thankfully the target was big. The two delicate flowers landed inside the plant's mouth, and it emitted an odd sound that shook the glass walls. Almost like... a scream. The whipping vines came to a standstill.

Longbottom aimed a Severing Charm at the vine holding Rose and caught her when she dropped. Moe made his way to Curly, who was hanging upside down, and freed him from the stiff appendage.

"Is everyone okay?" Longbottom called over the class.

There were a few murmurs from the moaning student body. Most of them had gotten away without a scratch, but some were holding a bleeding cheek or a bruised arm. The ice burn on Larry's hand stung painfully when he flexed it. Longbottom turned to Curly, who looked like he was about to throw up, or maybe just faint.

"Alright," the professor said with a sigh. "North, help him to the Hospital Wing, would you?" Moe nodded quickly, wrapping Curly's arm around his neck. "Everyone else who was hit by the Venus Flower, please make your way to the Hospital Wing," he called to the rest. Then he turned to Larry and mussed his hair absentmindedly, adding, "Well done, Larry — twenty points to Ravenclaw. You okay to help me clean up here?"

Guilt wiggled unpleasantly in the young wizard's stomach. Not only had he staged this very accident and directly betrayed Longbottom's trust, but he was being rewarded for it.

Larry exchanged a look with his friends. "Actually, Sir," he said, turning up his palm where angry red blisters were already forming. "I think I need to see Madam Longbottom, too."

"Sure, right," Longbottom said with a sigh. "I'll get hell from Hannah about this. On you go, then," he added. "Make sure to tell her it wasn't my fault."

The injured shuffled out of the Greenhouse, and Larry wrapped Curly's other arm around his shoulders, taking off some of the weight. Rose walked beside them, limping slightly, and the four friends lagged behind the rest.

"Did you get it?" Rose whispered to Larry, and he nodded.

"We need," Moe said quietly, adjusting his grip with a grunt, "a safe space."

"Kitchen," Curly said dizzily.

They slowly made their way to the castle and into the Entrance Hall, then took a right towards the Hufflepuff basement.

"Which one was it?" Larry asked as they walked by the row of paintings.

They had all been down there at one point or another, either to try some of Curly's new wacky recipes or simply to look for him if he couldn't be found anywhere else. While Larry preferred to unwind by hiding in the Library with a good book, and Moe did so by cooping up in his Lab and tinkering with inventions, Curly's choice was always the kitchen. He tended to stress-bake.

"Green pear… Should be in a fruit bowl..." Curly said.

Larry threw his friend a side-glance. He was barely walking straight. "You don't look so good."

Curly tried to smile, but it was more of a grimace. "Just a little dizzy. I'm fine."

Rose stopped in front of the fruit bowl painting and tickled the pear. It turned into a knob, and the four friends made their way inside the kitchen, letting Curly slump over one of the long tables. Within seconds, they were surrounded by a crowd of worried House Elves.

"Water," Rose said to the nearest one with the commanding air of a pureblood used to being obeyed. She sat opposite the boys as five silver platters somehow appeared around them, carrying goblets of various sizes. She took one at random and placed it in front of Curly. "Drink it," she said softly. "It should help."

He did as she said, and Moe turned to her. "Are you h-hurt too?"

She shook her head. "Banged my knee against a table when the vines caught me, but it'll heal. Larry, what was that thing on your hand?"

He left his palm up on the table. "Longbottom's Ice blossoms."

Curly grabbed his wrist and brought it closer to his face. Squinting with the effort to focus, he said, "Second degree. I'll fix you right up, hold on..."

He reached for his wand, but Rose stopped him.

"I'd rather you didn't," she said. "You're not in a state to be healing other people, and you might end up blasting his hand clear off." Larry pulled his hand away, startled by the mental image. "Rest up; we'll get to the Hospital Wing later. But first..." She turned to Larry. "Did you get it?"

Without a word, he reached into an inside pocket of his robes with his good hand and pulled out the spotted piece of parchment he'd stolen from Longbottom's desk. Guilt twinged inside him again as Moe and Rose leaned over it.

"Hey, can I get an ice pack or something?" Curly said to one of the House Elves while Rose unfolded the mysterious letter.

"Dear Neville," she read aloud, "Thank you very much for the home-made cauldron cakes. The kids ate them all before I could try them, though I'm sure they were delicious. We're all a bit sad that we don't get to see Hannah when we make a trip to London now that she's taken up the matron spot, but we'll still be sure to stop by the Leaky Cauldron and get you some business anyway."

A House Elf in the standard Hogwarts towel came up to Curly and handed him an ice pack, which he pressed to his forehead with a groan. Larry listened to the contents of the letter, feeling a little underwhelmed. He'd been expecting something more... well, more _exciting_.

"Why would anyone throw grenades around to get to this letter?" he muttered, but Moe shushed him.

"Albus loved the little hopping pot you sent him," Rose continued, "but Lily said it would be perfect for her rainbow flower, since she doesn't have to move it around to catch the light all the time, and they got into an argument over it. I don't have a clue where you got it from, so if you can send a second one and I'll cover the costs; I'd be eternally grateful. Otherwise the next time you come to dinner the house will be a ruin, so you can help yourself to as much of Ginny's pies as you can salvage."

 _What does any of that have to do with anything?_ Larry thought in frustration. It felt very invasive to just be reading Professor Longbottom's personal, non-conspiracy-containing post.

Rose's face turned into a frown as she read on. "In regards to the questions in your last letter, I don't have simple answers. The attacks appear random, as far as we can tell, and we still don't know where they're getting their ammunition from or how they're counteracting spells. If Hogwarts really is their next target—and I have every reason to believe it is—they won't stop coming until they find whatever it is they're looking for. Be on your guard, and be ready for absolutely anything — we don't know a thing about these terrorists, other than the fact that they hit magical repositories and that they're not afraid to kill.

"I want to protect Hogwarts, Neville, you know I do, but no one knows all of the castle's secrets, not even me. The map you asked for is in Teddy's possession; he'll keep an eye out for anyone suspicious and watch over the secret passages we _do_ know about. Don't hesitate to go to him if you need help, I have complete confidence in him. If the sightings continue, I can send a few Aurors to patrol the outskirts, maybe even the corridors. I'll write to McGonagall about it right after I send this. Ginny and the kids send their love." Rose looked up. "Harry."

Curly almost fell out of the chair, scrambling to get a hold of the parchment. "Harry, as in _HARRY POTTER_?!" His eyes scanned the bottom. "Oh. My. God. I HAVE HARRY POTTER'S AUTOGRAPH!"

"We don't know if this Harry is Harry Potter," Rose said sensibly.

"He said he'd 'send Aurors'," Curly countered immediately, drooling over the letter. "Who else but the Head Auror can do that? Plus, everyone knows Longbottom and Harry Potter are old friends. I can't believe this is the real deal! I'm going to frame it and put it over my bed!"

"You will do no such thing," Rose said, snatching the parchment. Curly looked like a kid who had just been denied a trip to Disneyland. "Unless you want to explain how it is you got it."

"Can I just keep the bottom bit?" he asked hopefully.

"Wait, aren't we going to put it back?" Larry chimed in. The others gave him bewildered looks.

"And who will be the bait this time?" Moe asked sardonically.

"No one is being bait," Rose said firmly, folding the parchment and stuffing it in the inside pocket of her robes. "We can't return it, Larry, we barely got it out of there. And if we're all done _fanboying_ ," she threw a look at Curly, "can we discuss the fact that there are _terrorists_ that can somehow enter the school?"

The three boys exchanged somber looks.

"They haven't blown up anything yet," Moe said slowly.

"They did," Larry corrected him. "The Greenhouse."

"Before that, I mean," Moe said. "It said in this letter 'if the sightings continue'. M-multiple sightings, before the Greenhouse when they tried to get this."

"And they're looking for something," Curly added thoughtfully. "Something hidden in the school."

"That doesn't exactly narrow it down," Rose pointed out. "A lot of things are hidden in this place, and whatever it is, we can probably count on three things — it being ancient, powerful and dangerous."

"And they're not afraid to kill to get it," Larry said hollowly.

A long silence stretched over the group.

"Okay," Curly said finally. "So we just have to make sure they don't get their hands on 'the thing'. _And_ that they don't end up killing anyone while trying."

"And how are we supposed to do that?" Rose said quietly. "We're just four kids."

Curly smiled reassuringly. "So were Harry and his friends when they saved the world. Barely older than us."

"He had a point, though," Larry said. "In the letter. No one knows all of Hogwarts' secrets. Maybe we'll run into them again, but maybe we won't. It's a big castle."

"They're using Muggle tech," Moe mused quietly, and Larry wondered if he was still paying any attention at all to the conversation. "Why are they using Muggle tech?"

Curly shrugged. "No point in worrying about it." He stood up and stretched. "At least now we know what's going on, and if we _do_ run into them—what to expect. Now." He rubbed his hands together. "Who wants muffins?"

* * *

-O-

Later that night, with a bandage tightly wound around his palm, Larry sat in front of the fireplace in the Ravenclaw common room, trying to finish his Defence Against the Dark Arts essay with little success. This was partly due to the awkward angle he had to hold the quill in, and partly because his gaze kept wandering to the fire, his mind going over the letter again and again. Something about it was just… bothering him. What would a bunch of terrorists be looking for in Hogwarts? What was their deal anyway; usually terrorist groups had a purpose, a cause. If the Aurors didn't know anything about them, that meant that they hadn't released any statements. And why were they hitting repositories? Were they common thieves? Surely there would be easier, more lucrative targets than Hogwarts if petty theft was the goal? **  
**

A purr disrupted his thoughts as a spot of yellow fur rubbed against his ankle. He reached down absentmindedly and scratched it behind the ears.

"How's your hand?" Rose's voice came from his side as she took a seat beside him.

"Only moderately agonising," he replied with a slight smirk.

"Don't joke about it," Rose said softly, though she was smiling too. "Are you working on the Ghoul essay?" she added, picking up her kitten.

He sighed. " _Oui_. Just need three more inches."

"Do you want some help?"

Larry smiled. "Please."

"Let me see what you've got so far."

She drew the parchment closer and started reading it. Fitz climbed up her arm and onto the table, curiously investigating the objects on top. He made a circle around the candle, walked across the open textbook, then pawed at the ink bottle.

"Oh no, you don't." Larry reached over and took the kitten into his lap. "You little troublemaker." He pet the yellow fur, and Fitz purred again, standing still for once. "What do you think," he piped up suddenly, "they're after?" **  
**

"Hm?" Rose looked up from the essay. "Who is?"

"The terrorists."

"Oh." Her face fell. "I don't know."

"Something just doesn't make sense to me," he continued thoughtfully, looking back down at Fitz. "What are they trying to do?"

"Steal magical objects?" Rose ventured uncertainly.

"Yes, but _why_?" he insisted. "They're not using them. In fact, they apparently prefer grenades and other Muggle tech that's not even from this country. How are they getting their hands on it?"

"Allies? They may have contacts in America," she mused.

"Or... they're American themselves. Peddling the goods, maybe?"

"So they came here to loot the UK in a series of dangerous heists?" Rose raised an eyebrow sceptically. "That's not likely. Not to mention that Americans don't know any of Hogwarts' secrets."

"Maybe they do," Larry argued. "Ilvermorny was modelled after Hogwarts. And," his eyes lit up with an idea, "we have someone in Hogwarts that _went_ to Ilvermorny! Someone who might know how much information they have access to."

"You think we can get something out of Smith," Rose caught on. "Curly won't be happy about this."

"I'm not saying he's guilty," Larry said hastily. "But he is a connection, the only connection we have. It wouldn't hurt to… ask him a few questions."

"About Ilvermorny or about his possible access to American firearms?" Rose asked perceptively. When he didn't reply, she added, "You still think he has something to do with this, don't you."

"Well..." Larry drawled. "It has crossed my mind. He was in the military, the Muggle military, in the U.S. He might still have… friends on the other side."

"You really believe he might be the supplier? That is insane!"

Larry didn't let this comment deter him. "But it makes sense, doesn't it? Coming here under the guise of teaching, exploring the castle without raising suspicion..."

"Larry, I really don't think Professor Smith is in on this."

"Because Curly doesn't think so?"

"Yes!"

Fitz jumped off Larry's lap, uncomfortable with the heated atmosphere.

Rose looked around cautiously, realising how loud that last word had been. Then she leaned in and continued in a quiet voice, "Curly is a good judge of character. And your theory has very little to go on — I'd like to see more than his nationality in the evidence column before we brand him as a terrorist. Innocent until proven guilty."

Larry kept down the snarky remark that came to mind, instead saying, "He can't be proven either way until we investigate him."

There was an intense silence between them.

"Okay," Rose finally conceded. "Have your little investigation, but do try to be subtle. Also, you've forgotten to mention the Chameleon Ghouls," she added, handing him his essay. "Add a paragraph about those and you'll be set."

The tension in the air ebbed as he took it back. "I will," Larry said.


	4. Chapter 4

.

* * *

-O-

 **Chapter 4**

Rose brushed her hair in front of the bathroom mirror, eyes following the reflection of a yellow kitten that was trying to sneak up behind her. She smiled, pretending not to notice. Fitz stopped behind her, crouched, took aim and launched at her ankle. She felt his tiny baby teeth sink into her skin.

"Ouch!"

The young witch bent down and retrieved her wayward pet.

"Really, Fitz," she said, trying to sound stern, but rather failing at the sight of such a cute kitten. "Can you not stay out of trouble for five minutes? What will my dorm mates say?" Fitz purred, rubbing his head against her arm. Rose couldn't contain herself any longer and let out a soft laugh. "You can't count on your cuteness to get you out of trouble every single time, you know." Fitz begged to differ, licking her hand. Rose sighed but smiled and walked back to her bed, where she swung the school bag over her shoulder and placed Fitz on the neatly folded sheets. "Now," she said, trying once again to be firm. "I'm going to class. I want you to behave while I'm gone, okay?" He looked at her with his big amber eyes, and she pet him one last time. "I mean it. I want to find everything in here in one piece when I come back, understand?"

Cats, of course, couldn't understand human speech. Rose felt a little silly giving commands to an animal, but she still said goodbye to Fitz before leaving the dorm.

The Ravenclaw common room was nearly deserted, as was usual for this early in the morning. Only a few students could be seen in the midnight-blue chairs, working on a paper or nodding off over a book. Most of these were fifth and seventh years, studying relentlessly in preparation for exams, even though it was still September. Rose smiled slightly as she descended the staircase, mind wandering to the beginning of last year, when her own O.W.L.s were at the forefront of her mind. It was kind of funny, she thought, that the exams turned out to be the least important thing to happen to her that year.

As she crossed the room, her eyes fluttered over a few girls that sat together near the fireplace, and she recognised some of her own dorm mates among them. The girls were giggling about something but stopped the moment they saw her, waiting until she passed before they resumed their conversation. Rose averted her eyes politely and made for the exit. Once her hand was on the back of the door, however, she threw a quick look back to them, wondering whether she ought to go and ask if they'd seen Larry leave already. The girls had huddled closer together, whispering. One of them glanced over at Rose, then said something to the others, and they all exploded in muffled laughter. She decidedly turned forward again and exited the tower.

Luckily, she didn't have to ponder Larry's whereabouts for too long — just as she neared the end of the spiral staircase, Rose spotted the back of his dirty-blond head and hurried to catch up with him.

" _Bonjour_ ," he said when she came even with his shoulder, smiling in greeting.

" _Bonjour_ ," she replied before cutting straight to the chase. "You're doing it today, aren't you."

"I'm sure I don't know what you mean," he said evasively. Rose threw him an unimpressed look. "Okay, fine," he relented. "How did you know?"

"It makes the most logical sense," Rose replied simply. "You have a free period right before Defence, so if you're intending to interrogate Smith then, I can stall Moe and Curly after class."

Larry eyed her uncertainly. "And why are you so keen on helping me? I thought you were against it...?"

"Oh no, not at all. When you conduct your little interview, you'll see that Smith is innocent and we can concentrate on looking for actual leads."

He laughed. "You're that sure of it, are you?"

Rose beamed at him. "Yes."

Larry laughed again and nodded. The two chatted about homework and the books they were currently reading the rest of the way, heading for the Great Hall so they could meet up with Moe and Curly for breakfast.

They found their friends at the Gryffindor table, with a basket of freshly baked cupcakes next to Curly's elbow. Its contents were disappearing rather rapidly, as he offered one to every passing student. Larry and Rose exchanged a knowing look with Moe — Curly had obviously been up at dawn again.

"Good morning," Curly greeted cheerfully, holding up two cupcakes. "I saved some for you guys."

The Ravenclaw prefects sat down and took the pastries.

"Curly, have you been baking all morning again?" Rose asked with a slight frown.

Curly tried to shrug it away. "I like the smell of cupcakes in the morning, what can I say?"

"Maybe you ought to slow it down a little bit?" Larry suggested, biting into his. "Now's not really a good time to prowl the empty halls alone, if you know what I mean."

Curly waved a hand dismissively. "No one's gonna be throwing grenades around at 6 AM. Back me up here, Moe."

Moe shrugged, chewing on his breakfast. "It helps him keep cool."

Larry seemed to agree with that, and Rose felt defeated by the majority, so she kept any further comments to herself and tried to put it out of her mind. It wasn't long before the cupcakes completely disappeared—with some people coming over specifically to get one—and after breakfast the four friends made their way down to the dungeons for one of the few classes they all had together — Potions.

A small pack of students were already waiting outside Professor Moore's office by the time they made it, and a raven-haired Slytherin, leaning casually against the wall, waved at them when they were close enough. Moe gave her a shy smile, Larry and Rose — small waves.

Curly, however, grinned and waved back enthusiastically. "Hi, Cat," he said, stopping next to her.

She smiled at him. "Hi, Curly. Did the Venus Flower leave permanent marks?"

"Nope," he replied, laughing. "Still have all my limbs and everything."

"Too bad," she quipped. "Scars are a major turn on."

They both laughed, and Cat turned her attention to Rose, worry seeping into her voice. "Hey, I saw you limping when the commotion was over. Are you okay?"

"Yes, thank you," Rose said with a slight smile.

Cat's face brightened up. "Oh, good. I got away with only a few bruises and stayed behind to help Longbottom clean up." Lowering her voice, she continued, "I heard someone say that you and Larry set the Greenhouse on fire last week." Larry huffed derisively. Cat smirked, throwing him a look. " _Obviously_ that's not true, but Ellie says she saw you being led away from it by the teachers late at night. What happened?"

If anyone else had asked, Rose would have dismissed the question. But since it was Cat… it wouldn't hurt to tell her a little bit, could it?

"We didn't start a fire," Rose said. "We..." She exchanged a quick look with Larry.

"We tried to catch the one who did," Larry finished smoothly. "It was during prefect rounds."

"Oh," Cat said, her big, blue eyes widening in understanding. "And they started throwing curses around? Did you see who it was?"

"No," Larry said. "If we had, the teachers would know."

Rose felt guilt squirm in her gut. It wasn't lying, per se, but it still felt wrong.

"Well, as long as you're both okay, I guess it doesn't matter," Cat said. "Still, if I find the twerp that almost got you killed, _they'll_ be the ones limping to the Hospital Wing. Did—"

The door to the Potions classroom creaked as the hinges swung of their own accord, and the conversation came to an abrupt end as the students slowly started shuffling into the dimly-lit room. Professor Moore did not appear to be inside, as usual, so the sixth years found their way to their seats and set up their things. Moe, Larry, Curly and Rose did the same, and Rose felt a slight sting of irritation at the lack of light. She knew that Professor Moore liked to mysteriously glide between shadows, but why did her ability to see the instructions have to suffer for the sake of her teacher's theatricality?

A quiet swishing of robes alerted them to the fact that Moore had finally decided to make her presence known, and her silhouette emerged from the darkness, the soft light of the many low-hanging lanterns reflecting off her long, pale-blonde hair. It had been very effective in first year, but now the trick had lost some of its appeal. Unlike the dazzled gasps of first years, the professor tended to receive eyerolls from the older students. Rose mostly thought that it was a superfluous waste of time.

"Today, class, we will be preparing a potion commonly appearing on the N.E.W.T. exams," she said, walking slowly between the desks. "Each and every one of you is a good potioneer—otherwise you would not be in my N.E.W.T. class—but it is very difficult to make. I am speaking, of course, of the Draught of Courage. Or, as it's more commonly known..." She stopped in front of their table. "What is it known as, Mr North?"

"Uhhh..." Moe looked up at the beautiful woman before him, but the words seemed to get lost somewhere between his brain and his mouth. Rose felt a twinge of sympathy; Moe tended to get this way when speaking to women.

"Liquid Courage, Professor," Curly supplied helpfully.

Moe let out a big sigh of relief and threw him a grateful smile as the teacher moved on.

"That's right. And how did it get this name, Mr Fitzherbert?"

"Muggles," Curly replied without missing a beat. "The wizard that invented it wanted to help his buddy ask out a girl he liked, so he slipped some into his friend's whisky. The name kinda stuck after that; Muggles call all alcohol 'liquid courage'."

"Ten points for Hufflepuff," Professor Moore said, continuing her stalk to the next desk, where Cat and her best friend, Elise, were sitting. "The instructions you need are on page three hundred and ninety-four of your Advanced Potion-Making textbook. You should know enough of the theory and the correct methods of potion preparation to a least _attempt_ to brew it. I won't expect a perfect concoction from most of you," her eyes lingered on Larry for a brief second, "and you will be graded on how close to the real thing you got. Of course, if you do manage to brew it correctly, you will win some points for your house." The corner of her mouth curved into a tiny smile as her gaze passed over Curly. "You may begin—" Her wand made a wide arc in the air, and all the textbooks in the room turned as one to the relevant page. "Now."

Rose squinted down at the tiny print. It would have been difficult to read even if the room wasn't lit by only a couple of dim, green lanterns. " _Lumos_ ," she said, bringing the bright tip of her wand closer to the page.

Most of the other students did the same thing, and the quiet buzz of lowered voices filled the room as Professor Moore silently made her rounds around the desks. That was one thing Rose liked about her — she tried to pay equal attention to everybody and stopped to give proper instructions if someone was having difficulty, though you could easily lose points in her class depending on how many times she had to help you with the same potion.

"Careful with the Flobberworm Mucus, Mr Desrosiers," Moore warned quietly when she passed behind them again, and Larry immediately pulled the green bottle away from his cauldron.

Rose didn't really find the class that difficult—as long as she followed the instructions to the letter—but, as usual, Curly's potion gleamed in a happy, bubbling turquoise, whereas hers only shimmered in a dull blue.

"What are you doing?" she whispered when his hand picked up the powdered dragon claws and started sprinkling a bit of the dust over his cauldron (he didn't even measure it!).

"It'll add to the potency, thicken it a bit," Curly replied.

"It's not in the instructions," Rose said stubbornly.

Curly had to stifle a laugh. "If you live your entire life by the rulebook, you miss the best parts," he said, offering it to her as well. "Take a chance."

She gave the powder a sceptical look. "What if it ruins my potion?"

"It won't," Curly said. "Trust me."

Rose still wasn't sure about adding ingredients not listed in the textbook, but her fingers curled around the powder jar. Something sizzled behind Curly, and he turned around just in time to see that Larry's cauldron was smoking.

"Whoa there, buddy," he said, quickly throwing in some knotgrass and stirring a couple of times before the surface of the potion calmed. "Careful with the bat spleens."

Surprisingly—or maybe not so surprisingly—as soon as the dragon claw powder made contact with it, Rose's potion almost immediately gained a brighter shade of blue. It had always baffled her how effortlessly Curly was able to brew incredibly potent potions by deviating from the instructions and frequently adding his own touches on what he called 'a feeling'. How could one have 'a feeling' of how much daisy root they needed to add to a potion? Moe had suggested to him once that he ought to re-write their textbook, but he'd dismissed the idea, saying that he might one day do a book with his own creations.

Potions straight out of Curly's imagination? Rose was both curious and horrified by the possibilities.

"Once you are done," Professor Moore said when she noticed that most cauldrons were emitting the light, white smoke of the completed potion, "fill up a flask and leave it at my desk. One per person."

There was sloshing as students reached down the cauldrons with their ladles. Right as Rose, Larry, Moe and Curly left their potions on the professor's desk, there was a sudden explosion in the other end of the classroom. A potion hissed, a girl shrieked, and a cauldron was turned over, spilling a thick, orange substance to the floor.

"For Merlin's sake, Miss Mangani, stop screaming," Professor Moore said calmly, vanishing the liquid. "It's just a slight burn; maybe it'll teach you to tell right from left when you stir in the future."

The class formed a semicircle around Azalea's upturned cauldron.

Curly threw a worried look over the other student's heads. "I can't see if Zai is okay."

"Her hand is red and swollen... I think there's blisters," Moe muttered, craning his neck.

Curly quickly darted back to his things, then straight up elbowed his way through the crowd to reach the ginger-haired girl and examine her hand.

"This isn't a circus," Moore told the other students as Curly unscrewed the lid of a small jar and applied some of the white substance inside to his classmate's injury. "Clean up your workstations and get to your next class."

Feet shuffled around the room as guilty eyes were respectfully averted to the floor, and the class returned to their desks. As everyone started putting their potion supplies away and vanishing what was left of their potions, Rose raised a wand to do the same to Curly's, but something stopped her. She stared at her reflection in the light blue liquid, and her eyes quickly darted to Larry and back. She could almost see herself in the surface of the potion, running away like the coward she was while he tried to put out the Greenhouse fire. He could have been seriously hurt trying to do the right thing, and she didn't help him.

Her fingers found a second flask. Curly's potions were always flawless. _Always_. Only a little bit… Curly wouldn't mind...

"Don't dawdle," Professor Moore's voice rang above the students' heads. "Mangani's fumes might make you lightheaded."

The class shuffled out of the smoke-filled classroom and most people breathed in the stale dungeon air with relief. Moe, Larry and Rose waited for Curly just outside the door.

"I-is she okay?" Moe asked when he finally came out a few minutes later.

"Yeah, nothing serious," the Hufflepuff replied as the four of them started down the corridor. "Let's just hurry up and get above ground; I hate these dungeons."

No one argued with that, and the group hastily found their way to the Entrance Hall and continued up the stairs to their next class, History of Magic. Somewhere around the third floor they were intercepted by Cat, having just parted with Elise at the staircase leading up to the Divination classroom.

"Hey, guys," she said, walking along next to Rose. "Zai's potion sure stunk up the place, didn't it?" The Slytherin leaned her head towards Rose and said, "Smell my hair. Is it still there?"

Rose hesitated, but gave the shiny, black locks a sniff. "A little bit," she replied honestly, and Cat groaned.

"Ugh, great. Fantastic! That space cadet messes up and now _we_ have to stink like a garbage heap." Her arm looped through Rose's. "Excuse us, boys, but we need to take a trip to the little witches' room," Cat said, gently pulling her down the hall. Rose threw an apologetic glance at her friends.

"Sure. See you in class, then," Larry said. Moe simply gave them a small wave, Curly threw in a grin, and the three continued on.

Rose let Cat lead her in the opposite direction, chattering on about smelling like a corpse and that one time her dad and brother took her hunting and she saw—and smelled—a dead deer.

Rose's relationship with Cat had been a recent development — even more so than her other three friendships. While she'd gotten to be close with Curly, Larry and Moe in the beginning of last year, she had only started to warm up to Cat near the end of it, so having a girl friend was still very much untested waters. Slowly but surely, Rose was starting to understand that friendships with girls were a little different than friendships with guys, and her lack of experience in either led to a lot of confusion over certain things friends did. Which apparently included accompanying each other to the bathroom for no reason if they were female.

The two girls had to backtrack quite a bit, but when they finally made it to the toilets, the room was mercifully empty. Cat sank into one of the stalls, and Rose went over to the mirror, pulling out a comb from her bag and running it through her blonde locks.

"He really puts me between a rock and a hard place," Cat's voice came from within the stall, still talking about her brother. "I mean, Slytherin is very big on House pride, you know, but I can't not cheer for Max when he scores!"

Rose smiled at herself in the mirror. "And he scores often."

"Right?" Cat's voice sounded almost offended. "And he just had to get himself sorted into the rival House!"

"Technically," Rose said, barely holding back a laugh, "he got sorted first."

"Details, details," Cat said dismissively.

Rose chuckled. "I'm sure he won't get mad if you cheer for Slytherin in the upcoming match."

Cat huffed. "Of course he won't, but that's not the point!"

A sound of rushing water came from within the stall, and Cat opened the door, coming to stand next to Rose and check herself out in the mirror.

"Are you still going to cheer for him, then?" Rose asked conversationally, putting the comb away.

Cat reached into her bag and took out a pink lip gloss, then gave her a mischievous smile. "Obviously," she said, carefully applying some to her bottom lip.

Rose threw her a look in the mirror and smiled. "What about the other Slytherins?"

Cat rolled her eyes, continuing to draw the lip gloss across her mouth, but just as she was about to give a reply, the door of the bathroom swung open, and a group of Ravenclaws walked in. They stopped mid-conversation, and the brunette on the far left narrowed her eyes, making Rose stiffen. It was the girls from the common room that morning.

"Oh, it looks like we've trespassed into the kingdom of Princess Waltz and Princess Rhodes. So sorry to have disturbed you, your highnesses," the brunette said with a mocking smile. "I know the toilets at school aren't gold-plated, but you'll just have to make believe."

Cat didn't even make a sign that she had noticed them, finishing the work on her lips. "They'll do," she said without so much as a look in the girls' direction and flipped her black hair over one shoulder, examining her reflection from different angles.

The girl, whose name was Raven, crossed her arms, still smiling unpleasantly. "What are you even doing in this bathroom, Rhodes? Don't you know the Chamber of Secrets is one floor down?"

"This one has better lighting," Cat replied, unperturbed.

"All the better to see your Death Eater tattoo in?" one of the other girls chimed in, sending the whole group into snickers.

"That's not fair, Laura," Raven said in a sardonic tone. "Not all Slytherins are Death Eaters… Oh, except your parents, Rhodes. Or should I call you Rowle? I'm curious, how do you get to Azkaban for visiting hours? Brooms? Must be a pain to fly over a stormy sea."

"Why don't you go ask your mother?" Cat retorted.

Raven's face instantly twisted into an angry grimace. "My mother was falsely imprisoned for being Muggleborn, and she had to endure months of pure hell in one building with _Dementors_ , thanks to scum like your father. Just because some decent folk took you in, that doesn't mean you get to go around pretending they're your real family."

Rose threw a quick look at Cat, who looked just about ready to rip the other girl's throat out.

"The Rhodes' _are_ my real family. Just go and ask Max, see how that goes for you."

"You can say that all you want, but it won't make it true," Raven continued. "A snake may shed its skin, but it's still a snake. The Rhodes are all Gryffindors, aren't they? And what happened the second their darling, adopted Cathalina set foot in Hogwarts? She showed her true colour — green. Just like dear old dad." Her eyes moved to Rose. "And of course, purebloods of a feather flock together. Why are you in Ravenclaw, Swan Princess? Did daddy bribe the Hat?"

Rose almost cringed at the nickname. Swans were the symbol of her House, but she hated being associated with them.

"Leave her alone," Cat said, glaring at Raven.

"I wasn't talking to you," the other girl retorted coldly, then turned to Rose again. "So you even have _other_ purebloods fighting your battles for you now? And you're just going to let them — how typical. People like you really get on my nerves, you know that?" Raven took a step closer, staring daggers into Rose. "You come into this school with a silver spoon in your mouth, used to everyone and everything bowing down to you and obeying your will. Well guess what, the rest of us here aren't your House Elves, and you're not better than us just because you're pureblood."

"Rose doesn't think that!" Cat snapped before she could reply.

Raven rolled her eyes. "Please. She likes telling people what to do, just about jumps at the opportunity to exert her power over us peasants."

"Wait," Rose said, suddenly realising something. "Is this because I gave you detention?"

Raven huffed. "I'm not so petty to be bitter about having to do _lines_ , Princess. What grinds my gears is how you think your blood somehow makes you better than the rest of us."

"I caught you outside after hours," Rose said calmly, though irritation was starting to build inside her. "You broke the rules; I wasn't punishing you for my own amusement."

"I was going to the kitchen for a snack, it wasn't like I tried to set the school on fire," Raven countered. "No one cares about minor shit like that! You didn't have to play the Queen of the Halls, but you did because you like it."

"A snack?" Rose repeated incredulously. "I found you locking lips with Alistair Frost. Were you trying to fish the food out of his throat? And the rules are there for a reason, mostly for your own protection!"

"Oh fuck you," Raven spat. "You're gonna tell me you busted me for my own good? You entitled, self-centred, special little snowflake! Like you'd do the same if you caught your little golden trio in the act!"

The mention of her friends struck a match somewhere inside her. Not that they were innocents, of course, but Rose did not make an exception of them when they were being idiots. The first time she even spoke more than a sentence to Curly was when she gave him detention for throwing water balloons at people from one of the towers.

"I'll have you know that I've 'busted' my own friends plenty of times when they've broken the rules," she said icily. "Because my friends, unlike you, know that there are consequences for their actions, and they accept those consequences instead of whining about it. I've given Curly detention at least six times in the last year!"

Raven smirked. "Oh, I know exactly what kind of detention you give to Fitzherbert — under the Quidditch stands, no clothes required." She lowered her voice almost to a whisper as she leaned in a little bit and continued, "Or are you more middle-of-the-pitch kind of girl? Does the risk add to the excitement?"

Rose's hands balled into fists to keep from shaking.

"Don't take it out on Rose just because he won't give _you_ the time of day," Cat cut in bitingly.

Raven turned her attention to her, eyebrow raised. "Fitzherbert? Oh please, class clowns are far from my type of guy. In fact, he's more… _your_ type, isn't he? How did that date with him go again?" Cat glared at the girl, but her gaze shifted back to Rose. "You might give her a cuddly nickname, but calling a snake a cat won't make it change its nature. Even you deserve better than that."

"I might be a snake, but at least I'm not a bitch!" Cat snapped.

Rose closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled. "You can think whatever you want about us, Raven," she said evenly. "You're entitled to your opinion, however wrong it might be. We, however, don't have to stand here and listen to it. Good day."

And without further ado, Rose calmly left the bathroom, followed closely by Cat.

"Rose," Cat started uncertainly as the two walked down the hall. "That date she was talking about, that was back in February. Remember Valentine's Day? There was a school-wide auction kind of thing? He bid on me because it was for charity, and we went out to Hogsmeade, but it wasn't serious. It was more of a game, actually. A friend-date. There was nothing romantic going on, honest! We just went ice skating and that's it, nothing else happened."

"I know, Cat," Rose replied, turning to give the Slytherin a tiny smile. "He told me about it. He said he had a lot of fun with you, and I'm glad you were able to cheer him up — his other date didn't go so well."

"Other date?" Cat asked carefully.

"Yes. As you remember, guys could buy a date and girls could buy a date, and someone bought him. Azalea."

"Mangani?" Cat said in surprise.

Rose nodded. "She, apparently, didn't get any of his jokes. He described the whole affair as very awkward, despite his best efforts." Her smile grew a little bit. "I'm happy he had a good time with you."

Curly and Cat were really similar in a lot of ways, and Rose thought they would make a very good couple. The only reason she was against that happening was that Cat had a habit of going through boyfriends like tissues and really wasn't one for commitment, while Curly seemed like the type to want to make a romantic relationship last. Not that Rose knew anything about that.

They walked the rest of the way in silence, until they reached the History of Magic classroom. Moe, Larry and Curly were hanging around just outside.

Curly raised a hand to greet them, but Rose couldn't lift her gaze from the floor.

"Did… something happen?" Larry asked.

"Well, we…" Cat drawled, throwing a look at Rose. "We ran into some bitchy girls in the bathroom, but we handled it."

Larry didn't sound convinced. "Rose? Is everything okay?"

"Everything's fine," Rose said, forcing herself to look up. Then she almost laughed, seeing that Moe was bending down, trying to get a glimpse of her face. "Really," she added warmly, her mood improving. "Nothing's wrong."

"You sure?" Curly asked as they headed into the classroom.

"Yes," Rose said, finally looking at him. "Everything is as it should be."

He smiled and drew the door closed behind them. "Okay."


	5. Chapter 5

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 5**

History of Magic was universally acknowledged to be the most boring class in Hogwarts, but it had actually become one of Rose's favourites. This had nothing to do with the material, or even with the fact that it was taught by an actual ghost. In fact, she had completely stopped paying attention during it sometime last year.

Rose quickly took her seat on the left-hand side—next to Moe, with Curly and Larry sitting behind them—and waited patiently for Professor Binns to slide in through the blackboard and begin his lecture. Nothing, not even his own death, could keep Binns from teaching, and he was so engrossed in it that he barely noticed if anyone was even in the room. That meant that as long as you didn't disturb him, you were free to engage your mind however you saw fit.

As soon as Binns' monotone filled the room and most students assumed the usual napping-on-their-desks positions, she pulled out a roll of parchment, placed it between herself and Moe and wrote,

 ** _So what happened with the messaging system?_**

He immediately drew the parchment a little closer and dipped his quill in the inkwell.

 **I think I got it right now. I'm gonna tinker with it in the Lab some more tonight.**

Even after nearly a year of them admitting to each other that they were friends, Moe still had trouble physically speaking to her. It wasn't personal, as he had tried to explain, but his girl-related anxieties still flared up around her. On paper, however, it seemed to make him less nervous, which made History of Magic the perfect time for their 'conversations'.

Rose scrunched up her nose at his last sentence and wrote,

 ** _Are you sure you want to go alone? What if it explodes again? You are literally playing with fire._**

He rolled his eyes at the parchment with a fair bit of exaggeration.

 **It'll be fine, Rose. The experiments are in their final phase, I'm pretty sure it'll work. Last time was a fluke. It's just frustrating that I don't have my computer! There HAS to be a way of circumventing the electrical overload!**

Rose stared at the sentence thoughtfully.

 ** _Shield charm?_**

His hand hovered over the parchment for a second.

 **Over the computer?**

 ** _I don't know anything about your Muggle technology, but wouldn't it be possible to shield it from magic?_**

Moe tried to muffle a snicker.

 **WITH magic?**

Rose felt her face flush.

 ** _I don't know. Maybe. Muggle tech can still function under a small amount of magic, right? So if we can somehow modify a regular shield charm to keep out the extra energy around Hogwarts…_**

Moe's distinctive eyebrows locked in a frown as he considered the idea. Then he started scribbling hastily, and the longer he wrote the more illegible his handwriting got.

 **It would be… complicated. Tricky. Lots of variables, and we'd basically have to invent a new type of spell. But if I can combine elements for a repelling charm and infuse a shield charm with some other components, then technically I can invent a spell that could keep the circuitry safe from outside influences. But then it would have to block magical energies while still allowing for physical contact which would be hard to pull off OR I can just invent an emitter that would be a part of the machine and**

Moe hastily pulled out a second piece of parchment and started sketching a complicated schematic. Rose peeked over his elbow, intrigued by the design he was working on. She knew that once Moe was in 'inventing mode' nothing could bring him out of it, so she just watched him draw and mutter under his nose for the rest of the period, understanding maybe 30% of what he put to parchment.

When the bell rang, he didn't even notice. Rose gently poked his shoulder, causing him to jump and stare at her like a startled deer.

"Class is over," she said softly.

Moe blushed, swallowed hard and gave her a stiff nod, averting his eyes.

In the hallway outside, Larry waved them goodbye and headed to the Library, where he was planning to spend his free period, as usual. Rose, Moe and Curly continued with Cat up the marble staircase and to the sixth floor, where their next class, Alchemy, was about to take place.

In contrast to Potions and its dim dungeon, Alchemy was held on the seventh floor, in a big room with even bigger windows. This was fortunate, seeing as things tended to blow up, literally, and toxic fumes were a daily hazard of taking this subject. Professor Croft, the teacher, had a clear passion for the subject—often verging on maniacal—but his adeptness at it was questionable. He could barely remember his middle name, let alone complicated formulae, and seemed more satisfied by loud explosions than he was with a successful transmutation.

"Do you guys have an extra pair of goggles I can borrow?" Cat said as the group went along.

Curly snickered as Rose rummaged around her bag. "You were gonna walk in there without eye protection? And they call _me_ reckless," he said, getting a chuckle out of Cat.

Rose tapped her goggles and muttered " _Geminio!"_ The pair multiplied, and she handed the second one to Cat.

"I just forgot, okay?" the Slytherin girl said, accepting the goggles with a grateful smile. "My brain doesn't work right this early in the morning. Making us take classes before 10 AM should be illegal!"

Curly laughed, and the two of them started a conversation about mornings and the importance of a good breakfast, as Rose and Moe fell a step behind when the four came up to the fourth floor staircase.

"Depends on what you're having," Curly was saying. "You need a certain amount of calories per day to function right."

"Yeah, I've seen those giant spreadsheets with the calorie count, but how can you expect me to do maths every time I want a snack?" Cat replied.

Moe held his hand in front of Rose, pointing to the disappearing step. She gave him a small, grateful smile and hopped over it.

"Calorie counting is ridiculous," Curly huffed. "Everyone needs a different amount; _people's bodies are not the same_."

"Is there like an equation or something where I can substitute x for my height and weight?" Cat said.

"Well it's not that _easy_ , but yeah, you can technically calculate your individual calorie intake." He threw her a look. "Why are _you_ worried about calories?"

Cat laughed. "All girls watch their figure."

They reached the top of the staircase and continued down the corridor, passing by other groups of students. Curly and Cat still chatted easily as they went along, with Rose and Moe following in a comfortable silence. When they reached the Transfiguration classroom, Rose pulled on Moe's sleeve to get his attention and pointed to the door, where Clovis White was just walking out, sporting a pair of rabbit ears. Moe shook with silent laughter. A flock of bluebirds flew out of the classroom and swooped above Clovis' head, soaring over the sea of students, and a few feathers drifted down in their wake. Rose felt Moe reach behind her head and gave him a questioning look. He retracted his hand, holding up a feather, his face aflame. Rose chuckled.

When they made it to the the Alchemy classroom at the end of the hall, it was already full. Well, as full as a class consisting of eleven people could be. The group had barely walked in when Professor Croft clapped his hands to get everyone's attention.

Where most witches and wizards preferred the usual pointed hats, Professor Croft wore a strange towering object on his head, which closely resembled a giant conch. No one had ever seen him without it, though legend went that his hair was blond. Since he was never seen with intact eyebrows either—something always exploded near his face at least twice a week—and he never took the conch off, that statement was impossible to confirm. The rest of his look was just as strange: the sleeves of his robes—usually bright purple—were always covered in various stains or singed around the edges, often with acid holes of varying sizes here and there, and his shoes were a bright, poisonous green.

"Ah, excellent, that's everybody," he said, gesturing for them to come in. "Alright, class, today we're going to mix it up a little! We're going to be working in groups according to House, and we'll have a little competition — whatever team can successfully make the most amount of gold using Jollivet Castelot's method will win twenty points! Ursula and Amar will be helping out today as my aides, so any questions — turn to them." He gestured towards the corner of the room, where two seventh year Slytherins were waiting for the class to start.

The girl was tan and pretty, her silky dark hair falling in straight waves over her shoulders. Her uniform was less than tidy — the green tie hung limply over her white shirt, the top few buttons of which were undone. Her red lips were curved in a tiny smirk as her dark, almond-shaped eyes swept over the class. The guy on the other hand was tall and broad, with arms crossed over his muscular chest. His dreads were gathered at the back of his head with the help of a loose piece of string, and his towering size and scary scowl made him look truly intimidating.

Rose had had some limited interaction with Ursula, since she was friends with Curly, but had never spoken a single word to Amar.

"Now start working, I have to make a quick run to the Hospital Wing for some burn ointment," Professor Croft said. "There was, ah, a small accident during my last class, but I'll be back shortly."

Limping slightly, Professor Croft left the room. The students exchanged befuddled looks, but everyone paired up according to House. Rose had to work with Ambrose Tyler, a boy with which she had exchanged maybe two sentences in six years.

"Erm… ladies first?" he said, gesturing to the desk they were going to share.

Rose nodded stiffly and sat down, uncomfortable with sitting this close to a stranger.

"So," Ambrose started, trying to give her a smile. "Do you want to use my flasks or yours?"

"Whichever you would prefer," Rose replied. "I don't have strong feelings either way."

"Uh… right. Mine, then?"

She nodded again.

Rose wanted to be friendly. She really, really did. She wanted to be able to smile easily and just start up a conversation with strangers, like Curly could, but she just… didn't know how.

Ambrose started arranging the tools on the desk, while Rose opened her book, _An Artificial Synthesis Of Gold? You Be The Judge,_ on chapter five and started looking for the Castelot method.

He stole a look at her. "Did you know the Alchemy class almost didn't form this year?"

"Yes," Rose replied, eyes still searching the pages for the recipe they needed.

"Low demand, you know," Ambrose continued awkwardly. "We, uh, barely got enough sign-ups. Speaking of, Carter and I saw you going to the Quidditch Pitch last week. Are you thinking of maybe trying out for the team? We have a few openings..."

"Oh… I'm not really interested in Quidditch," Rose admitted. She kept flipping the pages in search of the instructions, and Ambrose gave up, waiting next to her uncomfortably.

When she finally found the aforementioned method, Rose pushed the book so it would be in the middle and they could both read it. The recipe was listed as a novice exercise, and it involved introducing tellurium into an artificial combination of silver, arsenic and antimony sulphides. Her eyes scanned the instructions.

 _Dosage of Gold obtained by this second method — 2 grams_

 _The residue, which had been obtained by a mixture of:_

 _Silver 10 grams_

 _Tin 3 grams_

 _Arsenic sulphide 3 grams_

 _Antimony sulphide 3 grams_

 _was crushed as much as possible and subdued (read: subjected) to a treatment of pure chloric acid_.

Ambrose cleared his throat. "Seems easy enough. We can start with the silver, then..."

"Put on your goggles first," Rose reminded him.

His ears turned pink. "Right."

While he rummaged inside his bag, Rose's eyes wandered to the neighbouring desk, where Moe was working with Victoire Weasley.

"So, the first Quidditch match is coming up soon," Victoire said, reaching over him to get one of the flasks. He inched as far away as his seat would allow. "Gryffindor versus Slytherin. Are you excited?"

Moe made an attempt at a reply, but all that left his mouth was an affirmative string of sounds. "I, uh, mhmmm, yeah, aha."

Victoire, completely nonplussed, carefully measured two grams of arsenic. "Have you been practicing your swing over the summer? My cousin Fred said you made the team this year." She leaned in, still keeping her eyes on the scales, and whispered near his ear, "Don't tell Teddy, but I always root for you guys to win."

Moe's face was reaching dangerous levels of red. Rose wished Victoire would be a little more observant and respectful of his boundaries, but smiled to herself nonetheless. It would do Moe some good if he could interact with beautiful girls like her more often; maybe the exposure would help lessen his anxieties.

Trying to concentrate on her own project again, Rose turned forward and lit the brasier, placing a tiny bar of silver on top. Then she stared at it, waiting for the metal to melt, while Ambrose slowly mixed in the two sulfides. Since the two didn't talk, and there wasn't much to do while they waited, a stray conversation reached her ears.

"So, what's new? I haven't been keeping up with the Joneses," said a tall, slim girl with waist-long black hair and a rather bored expression, who shared a desk with Cat and a ditzy-looking blonde.

"Nothing much," Cat said with a shrug. "School, who stole whose make up brush, dating drama. Same old, same old."

The other girl was not impressed. "Lame."

Magenta, the blonde, giggled. "Shhh, don't forget about Amar's new secret not-so-secret lover, Tamsin."

Rose's eyes unwittingly fluttered to the Hufflepuffs on the far end of the room, where Tamsin, Curly and Leo were having what seemed to be a very pleasant conversation, with Ursula supervising their work.

"Ugh," Husniya, the black-haired girl, said with a roll of her eyes. "Maybe Amar should concentrate a little less on his 'little man' and a little more on the important things. Say, checking out what kind of private information Minnie has in her office...? Just a little ear worm that you didn't hear from me."

"What private information do you need?" Magenta piped up. "Why do think I'm always 'getting into trouble'? I do it on purpose… Full access to McGonagall's office, _all_ the time. All Slytherins play their parts."

Cat snorted. "Full access? I don't think McGonagall is stupid enough to leave a student alone in her office to snoop. If you think you've got full access, she's playing you."

Husniya remained unimpressed. "Magenta, you don't want me to answer that question. I don't know if someone needs to be present to dock points, but I feel like there's a few that should be automatically lost for stupidity."

"I'd rally for points to be placed on the person, not the House, because Slytherin would be so far in the hole with points due to the stupidity I've just heard," a deep voice rumbled, and Amar came up behind the girls. "Breaking into McGonagall's office? She has that place magically spelled and it'd probably take me and Sula weeks to gain full access. Hussy and Genta... ten points lost." His eyes fixed on Husniya. "And don't fucking worry about who my time is focused on. You go ahead and fool yourself into thinking you're obtaining secret information from McGonagall, Hussy. Let me know how it goes when you follow up on that information and found out she tricked your ass, and don't forget to include how stupid you feel for believing in yourself. Also, anyone say something on Tamsin again and I can swear to you, I'll hit your ass with a spell so hard you won't be able to say anything else."

Husniya seemed far from impressed. "Damn. I guess I had better shut my mouth, lest Amar shut it for me. But I'm already losing points for stupidity, so what do I care anyhow? No one is off limits, Amar. I would have expected you to know that, is all. And just because it would take you and Sula weeks doesn't mean someone else couldn't do it in less. There's plenty of loopholes, plenty that you've been missing since you've been preoccupied with other _holes_. I hear there's a Gryffindor that knows how to get around spells the Muggle way; if we scratched his back, maybe he could scratch ours."

Rose heard herself speak before she had even made the conscious decision to open her mouth. "Kindly leave the Gryffindor out of your schemes; he never asked to be involved in them. If you are as clever as you claim to be, find your own way into off-limits areas."

The whole class turned to stare at her, and the Slytherin desk suddenly seemed very, very scary. Rose realised that she had somehow stood up.

"Kindly leave your nose in a book, Princess," Husniya said. "If the Gryffindor wants to be left out, he can tell me himself."

"Kindly jump off a cliff before I push your ass off myself," Amar snapped at Husniya.

Then Ursula spoke too. "Amar. Ignore her. If she wants to be a fucking idiot, let her."

"Ah, the knight in shining armor come to save the pretty, pretty princess, but his only advice is the silent treatment," Husniya replied in her usual sarcastic tone. "Well done. I am defeated." Then she turned around, smiled at Moe and said, "Gryffindors don't let other people tell them what to do. We can have a good time, can't we, Moses?"

Moe's face quickly turned red.

"If you try to coerce or force him into anything he isn't comfortable with, I will hex you," Rose said icily.

Husniya raised her palms at shoulder height and said sarcastically, "Oh, I'm so afraid." Her hand reached to touch his arm, and there was a sudden flash of blinding white light.

* * *

-O-

Larry stopped for a second before the Defence Against the Dark Arts classroom to review his plan. He'd taken Rose's advice about subtlety and planned his questions very carefully, in a way that wouldn't be immediately obvious, but he still wasn't entirely sure how to breach the subject.

Taking a deep breath, Larry raised a hand and knocked. When he heard a faint "Come in!" from inside, he turned the knob and hesitantly peeked in.

Professor Smith was sitting at his desk, grading papers. He looked up and gave Larry a fangy smile. "Ah, the Greenhouse Hero. What can I do for you, Larry?"

"Um, well," Larry said, trying to keep a calm face. "I usually have this period free, but Madam Pince caught Sophie Hamada passing chocolate in the Library, so now the premises is temporarily off-limits. Is it okay if I wait for class in here?"

Smith's red eyes darted to the tall grandfather clock, then fixed on Larry again. "There's 'bout twenty minutes left, but sure, make yourself at home."

Larry gave him a faint smile and made his way to the desk he usually shared with Moe. "Sorry to be a bother," he muttered apologetically, pulling out a Muggle book he'd brought out of his bag.

"Don't worry about it, I'm just gradin' some homework papers," Smith replied cheerily. "Did you have a pleasant summer?"

"Oh, very much so," Larry replied. "I went to India with my family."

"My, my," Smith said, the eagle feather quill continuing its dance over the parchment. "How'd you find it?"

"Not exactly as I expected," Larry admitted. "The books I've read on India didn't really prepare me for the experience."

Smith laughed. "Yeah, that tends to happen."

Larry's fingers nervously ran over the spine of the book in his hands. "I'd like to visit America too, one day. Is it much different than in the books?"

"Well, Larry," Smith said without looking up, "things tend to get romanticized in books. Which one have you got there?"

" _For Whom The Bell Tolls_?" Larry said.

Smith chuckled. "That one's not really 'bout America, though."

"It's about the US army," Larry countered. "You've been in the army, right, Sir? Would you say this is accurate?"

The teacher's chuckle turned into an outright laugh. "I served in the 1800s, Larry, in the Civil War; your book takes place durin' World War II. I wouldn't know anything about military strategies from the nineties."

"But you did serve," Larry insisted. "Don't you keep up with this kind of thing? Advancements in weaponry?" Smith didn't reply. "What about your army buddies? Don't you, I don't know, keep tabs on them? Their families?"

Professor Smith smiled, though there was a sort of sadness in it, and put the quill down. Intertwining his fingers, he leaned forward on the desk and said pleasantly, "Larry, have you ever seen Muggle movies?"

The question caught him off guard. "I—er… what?"

Smith laughed. "Well, have you?"

"Yes."

"Have you seen _Captain America_?"

Larry nodded. Curly was very into superhero movies, and he often invited Larry and Moe to movie nights during the summer.

"Then you know how the titular character of the movie feels a lot of the time. Like a relic. Out of date. He doesn't get references or slang, and he still behaves in what people call an 'antiquated' way. The same, in many ways, is true of me. I am a product of another time. A lot changes 'bout war over the years, but one thing that always remains the same is the tragedy of it. The violence. Once you've been through somethin' like that, once you've made it to safety… not a great many things can make you want to go back and relive it. PTSD, they call it. If you'd seen your friends lose a limb after steppin' on a landmine, if you've seen people die in heaps around you, heard bullets whizz through the air knowin' that each and every one of them could be meant for you… would you still be interested in what new ways of killin' were invented after you left the battlefield?"

Larry stared at his teacher, speechless. Smith had said all of that in his usual pleasant, southern drawl, with the patient tone of a parent explaining that two and two makes four.

"So to answer your question, Larry, no, I have not been keepin' up with army developments since I was presumed dead on the battlefield and a vampire decided to revive me in 1862. All of my 'army buddies' are dead and gone by now, and just like Captain America, I have largely left their families alone and tried to make a new life for myself."

Larry looked down at the book, feeling like a complete ass for suspecting him. " _Désolé_ ," he muttered. " _Je ne savais pas_.*"

Smith smiled again, picking up the quill. "That's alright, no harm done," he said lightly, resuming his work. "But if you want to learn about modern America, I suggest you try more contemporary fiction. I can give you a few suggestions, if you'd like."

They chatted a while longer about random new books and American authors, until students started flooding in and Smith's attention became absorbed by other things. Larry turned to his book, tuning out the chatter of voices and the movement of chairs. He only looked up again when someone put their bag on his desk, but that someone was not Moe, like he expected, but Curly.

"You are not going to believe this," he said excitedly, sitting down next to Larry.

"You've said that phrase before, but trust me, I do actually believe that Teddy can juggle. It's really not that impressive," Larry said, looking around for the other two. "Where are Moe and Rose?"

"This isn't about Teddy's mad juggling skills—though you are wrong about that, because it _is_ very impressive. But! Rose just turned a girl's head into a pumpkin and got sent to the Headmistress' office!"

Larry gave him an unimpressed look. "You're right," he said. "I don't believe it." Then he returned to his book.

Curly pushed the book down. "I'm not kidding. I didn't get all of it because it happened during class and we were working in groups, but Husniya threatened Moe, and Rose hexed her."

Larry stared at him for a moment, trying to comprehend the words. "Rose did? _Our_ Rose?"

Curly nodded, and a grin crossed his face. "I think making friends with her ranks in the top three best decisions of my life."

Larry felt a small twinge of guilt at those words. Out of all three of them, he had been the one that had the most opportunity to befriend Rose. They were in the same House, same common room, same classes, but for four years straight, he had barely acknowledged her existence. She was just another classmate, just a girl in Ravenclaw that he saw around the Library occasionally. He'd been too preoccupied with his grades and the adventures his friends dragged him into to notice that she was always alone.

If he had been just a little more attentive, he wondered, would he have been the one to bring her into the fold? If he'd been the one to notice Rose, would they have gotten to be friends sooner?

But he hadn't noticed. Curly had.

Larry tried to move past those thoughts and put a face to the other name Curly had mentioned. "Husniya… Which one was that?"

"You know, Slytherin girl, our year, super thin, kind of scary?" Curly supplied. "Her hair goes all the way down to her waist?"

"Oh. Yes, I think I can place her. Why did she threaten Moe?"

Curly shrugged. "Like I said, I didn't get all of it. Rose just stood up in the middle of class and told her to keep Moe out of her schemes, and that if she did anything to him Rose would hex her. Hussy didn't take it too seriously, and..." He laughed heartily. "Rose turned her head into a pumpkin! It was a— _mazing_! Then a few other people got a spell in, and someone hit Croft's desk, and then the whole thing exploded!" Curly dialled down the manic enthusiasm when he added, "Everyone's okay, though, no one got hurt. Croft accused Rose of starting a _riot_ and sent Hussy to the Hospital Wing to get her head back to normal."

"What about Moe? Where is he?"

"He wanted to go and talk to McGonagall."

* * *

-O-

Moe waited anxiously next to the Griffin Stairwell. It had been twenty minutes now since he'd given his version of events to the Headmistress and she'd told him to wait outside. Despite doing his best to defend Rose's actions, he worried about what was going on in there, and all sorts of terrible scenarios were flicking through his mind a mile a minute. What if she got kicked out of Alchemy class? What if they took away her prefect-ship? _What if she got expelled?_

The Gryffindor paced back and forth, unable to stand still. Then, finally, he heard the sound of stone grinding against stone, and the spiral stairwell moved. He backed away a little so he wouldn't block the exit and saw Rose's figure descend with the steps. Her head was bowed low, her hands gathered in front of her, shoulders hunched in defeat. Moe felt like someone had punched him right in the gut.

"R-R-Rose?"

She looked up and saw him. For a moment he thought that she was going to cry, and a loud alarm started blaring somewhere in the back of his head. _Tears! Tears!_ He didn't know what to do with tears!

But then she lowered her eyes to the ground and said, so quietly that he almost missed it, "I'm sorry."

He just stood there, gaping at her like a fish. "Y-You're s-s-sor-r-rry?"

"I should not have done what I did," she continued in that flat, formal monotone. "I did not mean to imply that you cannot take care of yourself or that you were not able to help Slytherins break into off-limits areas. It was your call to make, and I'm sorry I spoke out of turn." Her waist bent in a bow, and Moe couldn't believe his freaking eyes and ears. When she looked up at him again, she whispered, "Please don't be mad."

 _No! No no no no no no no no!_

She was misinterpreting things again, thinking he'd taken offence to something he hadn't, that he was mad when he wasn't. If only he could _say_ that!

"N-no, I-I-I didn't-t, I'm n-n-not—! That's-that's n-not—"

Moe tried to get the words out, but the result was a flow of mumbled syllables that were incomprehensible for anyone who lived outside his headspace. The more he tried to force the sounds to make sense, the worse it got, and he cursed that stupid fucking stutter that always got in the way of everything and his stupid fucking self for being such a loser and such an awkward, worthless mess!

His hands flew into his short brown hair, pulling it, scratching his head, as more and more sounds kept spilling from his mouth without a lick of coherency. _No! No!_ He was panicking, because Rose was just standing there, thinking that he was mad, and he couldn't stop being a total freak for _one minute_ and **_explain_**!

The hole his mind was quickly spiraling into suddenly came to a stop when a quill somehow appeared between his fingers. His eyes focused again, registering the notebook Rose was holding up to him. Without wasting any time, he started frantically writing on it.

 **Of course I'm not mad, you didn't do anything bad. Well, technically you did, but she'll be okay, I actually thought that pumpkin thing was kind of funny.**

He held it up for her to read, but then almost instantly turned it around again and added,

 **I appreciate that you tried to stand up for me. No one besides Curly, Larry and my parents has tried to defend me like that. But there was no need. I wouldn't have helped them, and they couldn't have made me.**

Now he flipped it over and let her read it in peace. Rose gently took the notebook away and sat down, leaning her back against the wall. Then she started writing too, and Moe gingerly took a seat on the floor next to her, as close as he dared, and peeked over her arm.

 ** _I should have stayed out of your affairs. I know. It wasn't my place to speak up, but I opened my mouth anyway, and I thoroughly embarrassed you. I'm sorry. I just… I don't know what came over me. It's not that I thought you couldn't handle the Slytherins, it's that… I know how you get around pretty girls, and Husniya is a very pretty girl. I didn't want her to make you uncomfortable or to send into one of your freak out episodes, and here I am, causing one._**

She gave Moe a look of such utter sadness that for a moment _he_ wanted to cry. He put the quill back to the parchment, and Rose moved the notebook so it was between them and they could both write on it easily.

 **You didn't embarrass me. Okay, maybe you did, a little, but it was a good kind of embarrassing. Kind of like when your mum draws hearts on your lunch bag and the other kids see it.**

Rose stared at the words with a confused frown, and Moe quickly added,

 **Has your mother never made you lunch?**

Rose put her quill to the parchment.

 ** _No. The House Elves do all the cooking at home. Why was your mother serving lunch in bags?_**

 **Oh, that was for school. You could eat the cafeteria food, if you really wanted to get food poisoning, but most kids just brought their own lunches from home.**

Rose smiled and wrote,

 ** _And your mother put hearts on your lunch? That's so sweet._**

Moe's mouth stretched into a grin.

 **Yeah. She's pretty great.**

His smile faded a little as he added below that,

 **What did McGonagall say in there?**

Rose sighed.

 ** _She went on a long lecture about integrity and how this was not the proper way for a prefect to behave. I lost a whole lot of points, and I have detention. Then she gave me a biscuit._**

Moe raised an eyebrow at the biscuit bit. Did he read that right? Rose kept staring at the parchment, as if thinking.

 ** _Thank you for speaking up on my behalf. I wish I could… articulate what made me do it, but I can't. I've never done a thing like this before, and… and I can only say that it happened because I'm protective of you. I know you're taller, stronger, smarter and older than me. I know it's not rational to feel this way, but I didn't exactly stop to think about it. It was an instinctive response somehow, almost like I'd lost control of myself._**

Her eyes darted to him and lingered on his face for a second before she continued.

 ** _Please, try to understand. You and Larry and Curly are the very first friends I've ever made. The only friends I've ever made._**

Moe stared at the ink.

 **I do understand. Better than you think.**

Rose started leaning her side towards his, very slowly and deliberately, until her head was resting against his arm. He leaned away, instinctively, but not out of range. The second they made contact, Moses' entire nervous system went into overdrive, and for a few seconds there he started seeing spots play over his eyes. But then, as a the minutes passed, the booming echo of his own pulse subsided and his arm got used to the feeling. He started to breathe normally again, and his eyes darted down to the top of his friend's blonde head. He couldn't see her face at all. Relaxing back against the wall, Moe looked out the window on the opposite wall and gazed up at the clear, blue sky.

This was actually kind of nice.

* * *

...

I'm sorry. I didn't know. *


	6. Chapter 6

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 6**

Larry woke up with a start as something hit him in the chest.

A book slipped from his stiff fingers and landed on the ground with a soft _thump_. He sat up in the comfy blue chair and blinked away the sleep, taking in the dark, empty common room. The last embers were slowly dying in the fireplace, and the wind howled against the tall windows. Larry had no idea how long he'd been asleep, but judging by the starry sky outside, it must have been at least a few hours. Something purred in his lap, and he looked down to find Fitz, Rose's kitten, pawing at his chest. Suddenly, he remembered what he was doing in the common room in the first place.

"Is she still not back?" he said out loud.

In response, Fitz jumped down and walked over to the knocker, then turned to look at Larry expectantly. The young wizard stood up. Rose would not have walked by him without waking him up, and she most certainly wouldn't have left Fitz outside if she were up in the dormitory. Her detention, she'd said, might keep her occupied until after curfew, but this was pushing it. Something wasn't right.

As soon as he opened the door, the cat slipped out before him. Larry followed it out on the twisted stairwell and stopped to gather his sleepy thoughts. He really, _really_ didn't like the idea of Rose walking alone at night, not with the possibility of running into the Cloak. What had she said the punishment was? Oh, right. Trophy polishing.

Larry brought out his wand and whispered, " _Lumos_." The tip shone with a soft light, and he started down the steps. Fitz, to his surprise, padded along.

Moonlight streamed in through the windows as he passed, occasionally being obscured by a random cloud. The beams of silver light were more unnerving to him than the shadows that danced in their wake, and he tried his best not to think about it. It didn't really matter what phase the moon was in. There was no real need to check, he told himself. None at all.

As he reached the bottom of the staircase and took the right hallway, along with his feline companion, Larry tried to look at the floor, the suits of armour, the paintings, anywhere but out the windows. _It's too bright to be a new moon_ , a soft, treacherous voice whispered in his ear. He tried to ignore it, stubbornly keeping his wand lit. It didn't matter. It didn't matter.

Fitz, as if sensing his nervousness, rubbed against his ankle before shooting a few steps ahead. Larry smiled to himself. If a small, mischievous kitten liked him, then he couldn't be cursed, surely? Although, when he thought about it, werewolves were only dangerous to humans and not to animals. In fact, he could distinctly remember that the birds his father fed in the wintertime ate straight out of his hand. Perhaps this wasn't an appropriate gauge.

As a way of distracting himself, Larry started listing the proper fertilising methods for all of the Greenhouse Three plants in his head.

When he descended down and reached the fourth floor corridor, which was flooded in moonlight thanks to its west wall being a never-ending stream of windows, Larry quickly ducked into the secret passageway behind the portrait of Brutus Scrimgeour. It was a short cut to the Trophy Room, but more importantly, it was dark. The same, however, could not be said of the Trophy Room itself. Bathed in moonlight, the various awards, trophies, cups, plates, shields, statues and medals all gleamed from their crystal glass displays. And there, right before the open cabinet housing the Hogwarts Awards for Services to the School, was Rose.

She was sitting on the ground, a worn, gray cloth in her hand and a pair of Mrs Skower's All-Purpose Magical Mess Remover bottles at her side. Fitz, who had so far kept up with Larry for the most part, bounced across the room and rubbed into her elbow. She looked down at him in surprise, then up at Larry as he approached.

"Rose, what are you still doing here?" he said, watching her pet Fitz.

"I'm not finished yet," she replied, standing to her feet. "Mr Filch said I was supposed to scrub this whole wall." She gestured widely to the many glass cases lining the room.

"It's late," he said gently. "You should've come back to Ravenclaw Tower hours ago; the trophies aren't going anywhere."

Rose looked at him, a guilty glint in her eyes. "I know, but he said he would check, and I… I wanted to be thorough."

Larry shook his head with a sigh. "He _never_ checks; he only said that to make you work hard. No one really expected you to polish the whole thing on one night, anyway."

"I'm sorry," Rose muttered, looking down. "I've never had detention before… I don't know how this works."

"Rose, it's just detention. It's not that big of—" His train of thought suddenly derailed when he noticed her hands. His eyes moved to her red, swollen fingers and, very carefully, he brought her wrist up to the moonlight. _Of course_ , he thought bitterly. Rose, a pampered pureblood witch, had never done a day of manual labour in her life. "How hard have you been scrubbing?" he asked quietly.

"Enough to remove the spots," she replied meekly, slipping her hand away.

A soft click sounded in the silence, and the big mirror on the wall started to move aside. Larry didn't even think of hiding—he was a prefect, after all, and he wasn't breaking any rules—but when a faint green glow spilled from the tunnel behind the mirror, Rose pulled him behind the Services to the School display case and stared at him, silent fear growing in her eyes. He squeezed her hand in what he hoped was a reassuring gesture and carefully peeked around the display. A cloaked figure had stopped right outside the mirror, green lantern at its feet, studying a piece of paper. This immediately stood out to Larry — wizards didn't use paper. What was this person's deal?

He turned back to look at Rose and found her with her head tilted back, eyes closed, and one hand balled in a fist at her mouth.

"What are you—" he started, but her eyes snapped open and she hid the fist behind her.

"This could be our only chance," she whispered. "We need to act."

"Agreed," he muttered, leaning out to sneak another look. "What's the best—"

But he never got to finish, because Rose whipped out her wand, jumped into the open and yelled, " _Stupify!_ "

If Larry hadn't been so taken aback by her actions, he might have been surprised that the spell was ineffective. The Cloak, unperturbed at the spell that was sent their way, turned its attention to Rose. Reaching into a brown satchel, the intruder pulled out a knife.

Larry sprung into action, leaping out to stand next to Rose, and fired a few spells of his own. " _Expelliarmus! Petrificus totalus! Impedimenta!_ "

Nothing worked. The magic just seemed to bend around their adversary, in a suspiciously oval shape. A Shield Charm, or at least that was what it looked like, but the stranger wasn't even holding a wand or making a gesture. Chills ran up his spine as Larry processed the implications of this — nonverbal, wandless magic.

The Cloak kept advancing, heedless of the spells being thrown at them. Larry was starting to lose his nerve. He'd never had a real weapon brandished at him, least of all a Muggle one, but when the Cloak was merely feet away, he stepped in front of Rose to shield her. The knife gleamed in the moonlight as the stranger swung it and Larry braced to feel its blade, but instead a pair of arms wrapped around his waist from behind and jerked him to the right. Larry hit one of the trophy cases with an _oomph_ , causing the Quidditch Cups inside to rattle against the glass. Then Rose, who he could still feel against his back, was yanked away from him, and he heard her gasp in pain. He spun around to find the Cloak holding her by the hair, the knife reaching for her throat…

With a sudden, loud hiss, a blur of yellow fur jumped from the Head Boys display and landed on the Cloak's head, knocking off their hood. The kitten proceeded to scratch and bite at the head underneath, in an ungodly hurricane of growls and hisses. Rose slipped away, and Larry was able to get a few brief glimpses of the Cloak's face. She was definitely a woman, with slick, black hair tied in a bun at the nape of her neck, and a pair of what looked to be brown goggles over the upper half of her face. She put the knife back in the satchel and tried to grab Fitz, but the kitten ferociously bit and swiped at the hands coming at it, until, finally, a lucky grab had him by the scruff of his neck. In one, swift motion, the woman flung Fitz away… and right out the window.

Larry had barely registered this, when Rose, without so much as a word, lept out after him.

For one, terrifying second, Larry was numb.

"ROSE!"

Forgetting the woman in the blue cloak completely, he dashed to the window and looked down. He saw her fall, saw her wand make a large arc in the air, and her descent slowed. Larry pushed himself away from the windowsill and ran, ignoring the Cloak, who was swearing, holding a hand over her eyes and bumping into the walls like a headless fly. He didn't have _time_ for that, his mind busy replaying the moment Rose had _jumped out a freaking window_!

He flew down the corridor, faster than he ever thought he'd be capable, and took the steps down two at a time, almost falling over himself. When he made it to the Entrance Hall his knees were shaking, but he saw Rose just casually open the big oak door and slip in, Fitz comfortably nestled in her arms.

"Rose!" he exclaimed, looking her over for injuries. She seemed unhurt. " _À quoi pensais-tu?!_ " he snapped. " _Tu ne peux pas juste sauter par la fenêtre! Tu aurais pu mourir!_ *"

Rose stared back at him, a mixture of apology and surprise. "I'm sorry I worried you—"

"Worried?" Larry interrupted. "I think I had a heart attack! What possessed you to do such a thing? And firing spells at the Cloak? What was that about?"

"I..." she looked away. "She threw Fitz out… what else was I—"

" _Summon_ him back! Levitate him! Anything!" Larry exclaimed. " _Ne plonge pas après lui!_ **"

A silence stretched over them, with neither knowing what else to add. Larry took this opportunity to catch his breath and leaned against a wall for support.

"Larry?" Rose said carefully after a minute. "I am sorry. We had to do something or the Cloak would have gotten away. I thought… If we surprised her…" The words died down without finishing the sentence. "Please don't tell Moe and Curly I jumped out a window."

Larry wheezed a weak laugh. "Why shouldn't I? You deserve a good freak out for that stunt."

"But you already had one, so what's the point?" she said pleadingly. "You know how Curly is, he'll overreact." Then she added under her breath, "And Moe will get mad."

"I'd say those reactions would be perfectly warranted," Larry said. But when she looked at him like that, he couldn't exactly say no. With a heavy sigh, he consented. "Alright, fine, but you are _never_ to do anything like that again. _D'accord?_ ***"

Rose smiled gratefully. " _D'accord._ "

"And stop scrubbing if your hands start hurting," he added as the two slowly started up the marble staircase. "It's just detention; you don't have to be so dutiful about it. If your parents knew, they'd sue the school."

"If my parents knew half the things that you three have gotten me into, I'd be home schooled," Rose muttered. "Hey, what happened to the Cloak? Did you get her? What was that piece of parchment she was holding?"

Larry threw her a sharp look. "I was a little too preoccupied to search for clues," he said. "And no parchment is that thin and white. She was holding paper."

* * *

-O-

An hour later, alone behind the curtains of her four-poster bed, Rose stared at a small glass vial in her hand. At first glance, it appeared empty. However, if one looked at it carefully, they could see the few drops of a turquoise potion still floating at the bottom. Rose took her wand and pointed it at the vial, hesitating. A small voice in the back of her head, which sounded a little like Larry, reminded her that this was not smart. What she'd done tonight was risky, maybe too risky, but… But she did save Fitz. Without the potion… how would this night have ended?

The grip on her wand tightened, and she whispered an incantation. The level of the blue liquid inside the vial rose, until it was once again full. Rose tapped it with the wand, and it multiplied by five.

She put the vials safely away inside her drawer, then closed it softly.

* * *

-O-

True to his word, Larry omitted the end of the fight when he retold the events of the night to their friends at breakfast the next day, simply saying that the Cloak threw Fitz off, then got away. Curly had grown visibly pale when the knife was mentioned, and Moe's eyebrows had locked in an intimidating manner, but that was as strong as their reactions got.

Luckily for Rose, they didn't have much time to ponder the mystery that was the blue cloak, because the first weekend of November was fast approaching, and with it the first match of the Quidditch season — Gryffindor vs Slytherin. Since Moe had made the team this year, he and Curly spent a lot of time in one-on-one flying sessions, which basically amounted to Curly teaching him some broomstick manoeuvres and being target practice for Moe's Bludgers.

Neither Rose nor Larry had any affinity towards flying whatsoever, so they decided to spend that time by having their own private Muggle Book Club, seeing as Rose had never read any Muggle literature, which Larry found rather appalling. Most of the time said club activities happened in the Library, but occasionally they took to the Quidditch stands to observe their friends' flying.

It was after one such practice that the four were heading back from the pitch, trying to beat the storm clouds to the castle. It was a dull, grey afternoon, thankfully dry so far, and Rose's mood was a perfect reflection of it. During practice, the one Bludger they were training with 'scraped' Curly's elbow, though she was relatively sure it fractured the bone. Moe apologised profusely over it, but Curly had insisted that it was a good thing, since it meant that his aim was improving.

The Bludger struggled in its wooden box, which swung from Moe's hand as they crossed the grounds. Larry was walking beside him, retelling the book he and Rose had been discussing while observing the practice — _The Sign of the Four_. Rose and Curly walked a few steps behind them, with the Hufflepuff making odd movements with his arm as they went along.

Rose felt like she had to say something or risk exploding. "Are you sure it's a good idea to be practicing like this?"

"Hm?" Curly said, rotating his shoulder. "Practicing like what?"

"Like _this_. You flying and him aiming at you. Wouldn't it be better to have him aim at the goalposts or something?"

He made wide circles with his arm. "That's the Chasers' job; the Beaters are supposed to hit the other players. The Slytherins won't stay still and wait for the Bludgers to naturally run into them." He started moving his forearm up and down as if lifting invisible dumbbells.

"Yes, but in order for him to get better at hitting _others_ , he has to get better at hitting _you_. Have you thought about that at all?"

Curly laughed. "I'm pretty good at dodging."

She raised an eyebrow. "Is that why you're testing your pain responses?"

Curly shot her a look but added reassuringly, "Rose, I'm fine."

"You're hurt."

"It's nothing I can't heal." Rose pulled a sour face. "It's _fiiiiine_ ," Curly repeated, waving dismissively. "Quidditch is a rough sport, but no one's died during it in years."

Rose looked away. The rebuttal was rising up inside her, wanting to be said, but she bit back on it.

Curly tried to catch her eye. "Just say it," he said. "You're holding something back, I can tell."

Rose kept her gaze on the tail end of Moe's robes. "You're reckless," she breathed. Then she finally looked at him, and they both came to a stop. "You're _always_ reckless," Rose continued, the suppressed emotions beginning to seep into the words. "Not a week goes by when you're not being chased by some magical creature or hanging off the edge of a cliff, and you always treat it like a joke. It doesn't even occur to you, does it, that all it takes is _one_ _centimetre_ off, and you can end up as the first dead body! Just because you can heal it, that doesn't mean it's okay to get hurt; accidents are accidents because they don't happen on purpose! Why don't you ever _think_?"

He just stared at her, taken aback. Two steps away, Moe and Larry, who had stopped too, exchanged an awkward look. Rose did her best to ignore the tightness in her throat.

"Okay," Curly said finally. "Okay. I'll figure something out… Maybe flying pillows."

For a second Rose was silent, finding it hard to process how quickly he'd given in. "You mean that?"

Curly gave her a small smile. "I did promise."

Rose smiled too, so happy and relieved that she could have hugged him.

Something clinked as a metal handle became dislodged from its wooden hole, and the Bludger box fell open. The enchanted ball inside whizzed up into the air under the panicked gazes of the four friends, made a few zigzags in the sky, then came right back down at them with the speed of a blasted cannonball, aiming straight for Larry's head. He just stood there, rooted to the ground, staring at it in panic, but right as it was about to collide with his face the ball met with Moe's bat, which sent it careening towards the castle, where it wedged itself deeply into the wall.

The four teens exchanged a look, then broke into a run.

"Oh this is not good," Curly muttered as they approached cautiously. "I can practically feel the detention coming."

"How do we… I mean do we just… dislodge it?" Larry said.

Moe took out his wand and tapped the remnants of the Bludger box, fixing it. "We can p-p-put it back. N-no one will know."

Four pairs of eyes turned to the ball in the wall, which was, as they spoke, struggling to get loose.

"Okay, okay," Curly said, taking a few steps back. "Looks like it's about to blow anyway. Take cover," he added to Larry and Rose. "Moe, get the box ready."

Moe nodded and knelt to the ground, setting the box on the grass with one hand over the open lid, ready to snap it closed. Curly braced himself, legs spread wide, fingers twitching with anticipation.

Rose and Larry retreated along the wall, leaving a safe distance between them and the Bludger. As they did so, Rose felt something uneven under her shoe. She stopped, bent down to look, and found a pair of brown goggles just lying on the ground. Her eyes rose up along the wall, counting the floors.

"Larry," she said, turning to look at him. "We're right under the Trophy Room."

His eyes widened with realisation for a moment before the Bludger shot out and straight into Curly, who caught it with a grunt. He struggled with it, keeping it close to his stomach, and knelt down, trying to force it into the box. Moe's face was one of intense concentration, as every muscle in his body strained, ready to close the lid.

"Okay… Now!" Curly wheezed, then flung himself out of the way, and Moe snapped the box closed, securing it with a latch. "WOO-HOO!" Curly pumped a fist into the air. "Now that's how you catch a Bludger!"

Larry, making his way over with Rose, pointed his wand at the castle wall and said, " _Reparo!_ " The hole instantly filled itself. "And _that's_ how you get rid of evidence," he said with a smirk.

Moe stood up, Bludger box safely secured under his arm. "No harm, no f-f-foul. What's that?" he added with a nod towards Rose.

Her eyes darted down to the goggles in her hand, and she exchanged another quick look with Larry before replying, "Those were right under the Trophy Room window. They look exactly like the ones the Cloak was wearing… must've fallen out the window when she flung Fitz off."

Curly held out a hand, and she silently handed them over. He took off the canary-yellow Quidditch goggles from his head and slipped on the mysterious pair. "They look normal to me," he said, looking around. "Why would anyone wear goggles indoors, after dark?"

"Fashion statement?" Larry ventured sarcastically as Curly took them off. "Maybe it's all the rage in _Villain Weekly_."

"Or," Rose said, "it's to hide her identity?"

"Isn't that why she was wearing a low hood?" Curly said, giving them to Larry, who turned them over a few times to examine them.

The Ravenclaw lifted them to the light. "Seems normal enough..." Larry drawled, watching the clouds slowly crawl across the lenses.

"C-c-can I see?" Moe asked. Larry held them up, but instead Moe simply pointed his wand at them. The goggles gently floated up into the air, turning slowly. Moe's frown deepened, and he twisted the wand. The object started glowing in a pulsating purple light. "Enchanted," he concluded.

The other three exchanged a worried look.

"Enchanted to do… what?" Rose asked quietly.

"I need to run some tests," Moe said thoughtfully. "It could be some sort of vision-enhancing spell, maybe wired to detect certain kinds of objects or people, or it might be a case of simple night vision. If it were me, I'd link it to a database and have it identify objects on the spot and detect heat signatures. Maybe build in a map."

"The Cloak was looking at a piece of paper," Rose said, suddenly remembering what Larry had said. "Muggles use that for maps, don't they?"

Moe's gaze finally lifted from the goggles and shifted between Larry and Rose. "Did you get a look at it?" They both shook their heads. "Could also be for encryption. If I were a terrorist, I'd leave nothing in plain sight." He snatched the goggles out of the air. "I have some stuff at the Lab; I'll have to tinker around and see if I can find out what spells are on this thing. Maybe it's supposed to magnify things… or to detect fingerprints? Could be so many things… Gonna have to test all the hypothesis to see which one holds up, but even then it might require activation—"

Moe started walking off as he continued muttering to himself, eyes glued to the goggles. Rose, Curly and Larry exchanged a look, then took off after him.

* * *

...

What were you thinking?! You can't just jump out the window! You could have died! *

Just don't dive after him! **

Agreed? ***


	7. Chapter 7

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 7**

Moe's Laboratory was not an ordinary room. For starters, it didn't always exist.

To even get inside, one had to face the tapestry with the dancing trolls on the seventh floor, think really hard about the room, and then turn around. With some luck, the door would be there, and the Lab would have anything a young inventor could need – plenty of parchment and quills, a variety of strange-looking instruments, books on every subject imaginable, spare parts— _lots_ of spare parts—and even an alchemy set, which was somehow always stocked.

No one knew how or why this room had come to be, or why it was only there when someone thought about it, but Moe had speculated that it had been left behind by one of the more eccentric teachers. Larry was skeptical; Curly, however, had quickly decided that it didn't really matter, because no one else seemed to be able to get in it, and if no one was using it then it was alright for Moe to invent in there.

It had been a few hours now since the last rays of sunshine had disappeared over the horizon, and Rose and Moe sat beside each other at the work table—which was covered with numerous sketches of yet-to-be-built ideas, half-assembled inventions and remnants of Curly-made snacks—trying to solve the mystery of the goggles the Cloak had left behind. She would write down possible enchantments on a piece of parchment, and Moe would test them, sometimes using some odd tool, but mostly relying on his wand. Because of his stutter, he'd actually learned nonverbal spellcasting—a feat most wizards were only starting to be taught in sixth year and few ever mastered—from a very young age, so the two worked in complete silence. Rose didn't mind it. Growing up in Waltz Manor, there were whole days where she didn't have to say a single word to anyone, so this was more or less normal for her. Moe's Beater bat was stashed atop one of the many scrap crates in the corner, along with the Bludger itself, which still shook its box occasionally. The torches lining the walls gave off just enough light to Moe's work table without disturbing the two teens sleeping behind him.

Rose threw them a look over her shoulder. She didn't know where the blue bean bag chairs had come from, exactly. Curly had simply said he was tired, and when he turned around they were just _there_. Larry's blond hair, usually tidy and neat, was sticking out in all directions as he dreamt peacefully in one of them, still as a millpond. Curly, on the other hand, was sleeping with his mouth open, face pressed against the blue material of the bean bag, his body twitching now and again. He mumbled something she couldn't quite make out and turned over, causing the quidditch goggles to slip from his head and onto his face. Rose stood up, careful not to disturb Moe's concentration, and approached. She gently took away the goggles—why hadn't he taken them off?—and placed them on the nearest shelf. Then, just as the thought popped into her head, her eyes fell on a pair of blankets atop one of the scrap crates. Rose was sure that they weren't there a second ago, but that hardly surprised her at this point.

She threw the covers over her two friends, shaking with silent laughter when Curly muttered in his sleep, "Come back, muffins, you're not ready yet. _"_

Rose knelt down and gently brushed away some hair that had fallen into his eyes. Why was his nickname Curly, she wondered, if his hair was perfectly straight? Well, maybe not perfectly. But it was soft, and kind of…

Remembering herself, she backed away. Moe had stopped working and had twisted around in his chair, watching her. Silently, Rose returned to the table and took up the quill again. Moe didn't say anything, resuming his work, but his eyes did dart to her occasionally.

They'd been sitting there in silence for hours now, and when he cleared his throat and spoke a few minutes later, the sound almost startled her. "So, uh… Wh-wh-what did Curly m-m-mean earlier, when he s-s-s—when he s-said he had p-promised?"

Rose looked up from the list. Moe only threw her a quick glance before returning it forward as his wand kept tapping the goggles this way and that, making them flash in different colours.

When she didn't reply right away, his face gained the red shade of a ripe pomegranate, and he added, "You d-d-don't have t-t-to-you-you don't have to tell m-me, I was—I was j-j-just—"

"No, it's okay," she said quickly, trying to keep her voice soft. "I was surprised by the question, is all. It's not a secret, but it's..." She sighed. "You remember last Halloween, right?"

Moe, whose eyes had returned to his work, huffed. "You mean the n-night we all alm-m-most died?"

"Right." Rose was staring unseeingly at her list. "I was… after that night, I started having nightmares."

His gaze immediately snapped back to her. "You never s-said—"

"It was different then," Rose said quietly. "I didn't really know you and Larry that well yet. And when you go through something like that… it leaves a mark." She was quiet for a moment. "It started out as just me reliving that night. Every time I closed my eyes, I could see Larry bleeding out on the ground, or you, knocked out and motionless… And then… then I started dreaming of Curly. Dying. Night after night, it would always end up this way – instead of him saving Larry, he would be the one that got bitten, and no matter how hard I tried, no matter what I did, he just kept slipping away…"

She held up her hand, staring at it. Those dreams had been so real she could practically feel Curly's blood escape right between her fingers.

"I started dreading going to sleep," Rose continued, closing her hand in a fist. "I did everything I could to avoid it, and as a result I reached a point where I was barely awake during the day. So, I fell asleep in the Library one day. Then I woke up, and… he was there. I was still half-asleep, you see, so I still thought what had happened in my dream was real, and I was so relieved he was okay I almost cried. But, since he caught me, I had to explain it all. How I hadn't been able to get a good night's rest in weeks, how I kept having the same nightmare over and over again, and… how afraid I was that I would lose the only friend I'd ever had."

The memory made her throat tighten with emotion. She could almost feel him wrap his warm arms around her and say, " _You're not gonna lose me, okay_?"

Rose finally looked at Moe again and tried to smile, wiping the corners of her eyes. "It might seem silly, but to be fair, Curly is a magnet for trouble, when he's not causing it himself. Remember when he almost drowned that one time he flooded the Slytherin common room as a prank? Or that one secret passage he found that collapsed on top of his head? Or his insane I-can-totally-avoid-the-Whomping-Willow-on-a-broomstick stunt?"

Moe huffed again. "Five stitches after that one."

"The first time I really spoke to him I saved him from falling out a window, did you know that?"

He nodded. "The water balloon th-thing."

Rose shook her head, but a smile remained on her lips. "That might've been it, I think. His constant recklessness. He can heal his injuries and it's all gone to his head, making him think that as long as he can fix what's broken…" But what would happen if one day he _couldn't_ fix it? Rose didn't finish that thought. "That day, at the Library, he saw how upset I was, so he promised he'd try to be a little more careful with himself." She sighed. " _Try_ being the operative word. He's still careless to a degree I'm not entirely comfortable with, but… I know he does try."

Moe kept working on the goggles, but his brow furrowed in thought. "Curly…" he started. "C-Curly doesn't have a d-d-death wish or anything, but he isn't ever going to sta-stay out of trouble. It's not that he goes after the trouble, but he's a fun-l-l-loving guy and—"

"And I can't keep him locked in his dorm, wrapped up in blankets," Rose finished. "I know. And if I'm being honest… I don't want to? It's… it's strange, I don't know how to describe it." She ran a hand through her hair as Moe stole another glance at her. "It's just… I want him to be safe, but if he wasn't doing these things he wouldn't be Curly. You know?" No, of course he didn't, she barely did! Frustrated, Rose leaned forward, face in her hands. Wanting to change the subject, she straightened up and said, "Let's just forget that for now. Did you try the Tracking Charm on the goggles?"

"I did," Moe said quickly, all too happy to move on from scary, complicated conversations about feelings. He put down the wand, frowning at the goggles. "And the Disguise Charm, and the Repelling Charm, and everything else on your list, plus whatever I could think of. It's none of them! I know it has some sort of enchantment on it, but I've tried everything I could possibly think of, and all I'm getting are results in the neg! It has to be something… but what?"

Rose stared at the goggles, a crinkle appearing between her eyebrows. If they'd tried everything they could think of… they just had to try something they wouldn't think of. Or maybe, they were thinking about it all wrong. How did it usually go? Wand – need – spell. They tried looking for the spell by looking for the need. But what about the wand?

"Why would someone want to enchant a pair of goggles?" she said out loud, taking them in her hand.

"To see something, obviously," Moe said.

"No," she corrected herself, "why would someone enchant a pair of goggles when they can just perform the spell?"

He stared at her, perplexed. "Well, be-because… it's more convenient? It saves time?"

She shook her head. "But it's not convenient, is it? Yes, you could enchant an object to help you, but why would you do this to a pair of goggles you intend to use indoors and at night? They would impair your vision, if anything. Why not just cast a Tracking or a Revealing Charm on the spot, why enchant an object to do it for you? … Why do people usually get enchanted objects?"

Moe's eyebrows locked, and he stroke his chin thoughtfully. "Because the spell is too complicated? Because they can't do it themselves?"

"So then," Rose mused, "we're looking at a powerful spell, or a time-consuming one. Something not every wizard can do, or at least something that the Cloak can't do."

Rose tried to piece the clues together.

The grenade. The paper. The goggles.

There was something, something there, she could feel it. It was like a could slowly taking solid shape in her mind, a conjecture so wild and incredible that it had to be true.

"Well," she said, raising her wand. "Once you eliminate the impossible, whatever remains, no matter how improbable, must be the truth." The tip shone in a bright, white light, blinding them for a second.

"Huh?"

"Wha—?"

Rose and Moe turned to see that Larry and Curly had woken up.

"Did you crack it?" Curly asked, rubbing one eye as he sat up.

Moe and Rose exchanged a look.

"Not cracked it… Reversed it," Rose drawled. "To make sure." She put the pair on.

Suddenly, it all disappeared.

Her friends, the room, the light – everything. Rose was standing alone, in the dark, inside the ancient ruins of a crumbling castle. Lightning clapped in the distance as the cold wind howled and picked up her robes. Rose shivered, carefully walking to the edge of the half-demolished wall. Beyond it, she could see the bare, inky grounds, stretching for miles on end. Farther away, the trees of the forest swayed with the chilly breeze.

And then, just as suddenly, Rose felt a hand grip her arm, and everything was back.

She was staring right at Curly, who had the goggles in one hand, the other still on her arm.

"Rose, you're shivering," he said, passing them to Larry and wrapping one of the blankets around her. "What happened?"

She blew on her stiff fingers, gathering the cover closer. "It's a Reverse Muggle-Repelling Charm," she said. "It allows the wearer to see Hogwarts."

The boys stared at her, dumbfound. Curly turned around and looked to Larry for confirmation.

"The castle is spelled," Larry elaborated, "so that only magical people can see it. I've read in _Hogwarts: A History_ that if a Muggle looks at it all they see is a mouldy old ruin with a sign over the entrance that says DANGER, DO NOT ENTER, UNSAFE. If someone's found a way to reverse the spell…" He turned the goggled in his hands thoughtfully.

"Don't put them on," Rose said. "The enchantment is very powerful, and it's freezing outside."

"Muggles in Hogwarts," Moe muttered. "That's insane."

"Are we sure it's Muggles?" Larry ventured uncertainly. "What if it's for Squibs?"

Moe's frown deepened as he threw his friend a glare. "Squibs can see Hogwarts just fine. My dad's be- _been_ in here before."

"Oh, er… Of course, I, I didn't mean…" Larry stammered awkwardly.

"Also, Filch the caretaker is a Squib," Curly chimed in. "Can't work in a castle you can't see."

"That must be why the Cloak never does any spells," Rose added. "And why she uses Muggle technology. It all fits."

"She stumbled," Larry muttered under his breath. When the others looked at him questioningly, he continued, "I saw her stumble, the Cloak. When she threw Fitz off. She had her hand over her eyes and was cursing, trying to feel her way through the hallway."

The four grew quiet as the implications of this discovery sank in.

"These terrorists," Moe said. "They're Muggles, aren't they."

* * *

-O-

For the next few days or so, there was no sign of the Cloak. The four friends kept an eye out, but the world kept moving, and there was nothing they could really do with their new-found theory anyway.

"So he be-be-believes in destiny?" Moe asked at breakfast on Friday, listening to Rose and Larry talk about their latest book, _No Country for Old Men_.

"Well no, not exactly. It's not Divination as much as it's Determinism," Larry said, scooping some eggs on his fork.

"He thinks that every choice you make leads you to a certain point, and that's unavoidable," Rose elaborated. "It's the character's philosophy on life."

"You two read weird books," Curly said, shoveling some sausages in his mouth.

Just then, the post came in. Hundreds of owls swept into the Great Hall and glided over the students, searching for the recipients of their letters and packages. Larry moved the sugar bowl aside to make room for the large barn owl that landed in front of Curly.

"Oh hey, the new issue of _The Quibbler_!" the Hufflepuff said excitedly, removing the rolled up magazine from the bird's leg and leaving a few sickles in the pouch tied there.

"How can you still read that nonsense?" Rose asked, just as another owl arrived in front of her, delivering the newspaper _The Daily Prophet_.

Curly simply shrugged, opening the magazine. "It entertains me." Right on the first page, a big headline read: DEATH EATERS ON THE DANCE FLOOR: THE CONSPIRACY FINALLY UNCOVERED!

"What's this about Death Eaters dancing?" Larry asked, eyeing the cover with a raised eyebrow.

Curly quickly scanned the pages, then laughed and read, " _When exactly did the followers of the Dark Lord decide to enact his true plan? It seems Voldemort had always intended to hypnotise the wizarding population of Great Britain with his own song, 'Eternal Winter', which, witnesses say, he recorded shortly before his death. Now, seventeen years later, his faithful servants who have evaded Azkaban have started playing it in packed nightclubs..._ " Here he had to stop and snicker again. "I love this thing."

Rose threw him an unimpressed glance over the edge of her newspaper. Moe caught her gaze and rolled his eyes at the article theatrically, which made her giggle.

"Good morning," a voice said from the left, and she turned to see the ginger-haired Carter Hightopp approach their group.

"Mornin', Carter," Curly said without looking up, and Larry gave a nod of acknowledgement next to him.

"Listen, Larry, my costume just arrived, and… it's not going to fit in my trunk," Carter said to his dormmate. "Any chance I could use yours for the hat?"

"Sure," Larry replied. "Knock yourself out."

"Is this for Halloween?" Rose ventured curiously.

"Yes," Carter said, smiling. "I'm going as the Mad Hatter. This year the party is in Gryffindor Tower; Liling talked me into it."

"The hazards of befriending extroverts," Larry quipped. Both his, Moe's and Rose's eyes simultaneously slid over to Curly, who was still engulfed in _The Quibbler_.

Carter grinned in response. "Don't I know it. Are you guys going?"

Rose exchanged a quick look with Larry and Moe. "No, thank you. I think we've all had our fill of Halloween parties," she said.

"Because of what happened last year?" Carter said. "The chances of that repeating are a statistical impossibility."

"We'd rather avoid the statistics altogether if at all possible," Larry said.

Carter shrugged and turned to leave. "Your call. Thanks for letting me use your trunk, Larry."

"Yeah, not a problem— _will you stop that?!_ "

Curly continued sharply pulling at Larry's sleeve, eyes glued to the pages of _The Quibbler_. The Ravenclaw turned his annoyed gaze to the magazine as well, only to have his brows raise up in surprise.

"Wh-what is it?" Moe asked from his seat beside Rose, craning his neck to see.

Larry flattened the issue against the table and read in a hushed voice, "' _Investigations continue', is what we keep hearing from the famous Harry Potter, the bane of evil wizards. But is he looking in the right place? Mr Potter refuses to believe that the recent string of break-ins were so obviously caused by Blibbering Humdingers looking for a place to lay their eggs, and had the entire investigation hopelessly running in circles. The latest of these incidents was last night, at the London Museum of Magical History, where Potter and his team dismissed the break-in as 'not newsworthy' as nothing had been stolen or broken, clearly neglecting the fact that the place needs to be emptied if we ever want to see the Humdingers nesting in there. Potter, who seems to be losing his grip on policing, was overheard speaking to one of his Aurors about the method used to bypass the locking spells suggesting a possible connection between this and the recent string of oddly specific robberies of magical objects his department had failed stop. This is quite silly, of course, as Blibbering Humdingers have no use for old magical objects. Everyone knows they build their nests from spoons._ "

Curly stuck a finger at the bottom. "String of oddly specific robberies of magical objects," he whispered. "As in, the kind the Cloak is involved in."

Larry looked from Rose to Moe. "Remember what you said? They never think to secure the doors against Muggle lockpicks. We never once saw her wield a wand, but if she and her friends are Muggles..."

"They've broken into the museum last night," Curly said confidently.

"How do you know it's them?" Rose said sceptically. "Because you read it in _The Quibbler_? Everyone knows that thing is full of nonsense."

"Not all of it is nonsense," Curly insisted. "Sometimes it's things that _The Prophet_ doesn't think is important enough to report, or bits of truth masquerading as conspiracy theories."

"So what, Voldemort recorded a song before he died and now it's being played in dance clubs to hypnotize people?" Larry said flatly.

"You know what I mean!" Curly said. "Maybe it's not Blibbering Humdingers breaking into a museum to build a nest, but _someone_ broke into it, and I bet you that there isn't a single line about it in the papers."

"Because nothing was stolen," Rose returned. "What is there to report; _nothing happened_!"

"Exactly," Moe said thoughtfully. "Why did n-nothing happen?"

The four friends exchanged a tense look.

There was shuffling around them as the students slowly picked up their things and scurried off to class, blissfully unaware that Hogwarts was no longer safe.

There wasn't anything that they could do about it, really, even if they knew. Curly, Larry, Moe and Rose knew, but what good did it do them? It wasn't like they could stop the Cloak and whoever else she was working with. _Was_ she working with others? Would they have to call them the Cloaks?

"What did you get for question seven?"

The question barely penetrated the thick layer of buzzing thoughts around Rose's brain.

"Rose? Question seven?" Cat repeated. When she got no response, the Slytherin gently poked Rose with her quill.

Rose jumped in surprise. Her eyes focused again, and she shot the other girl an affronted look. Cat laughed loudly, which earned her a few shushes from the other three students in the Library — some exhausted-looking Ravenclaw boys. Cat flipped them off.

"Cat!" Rose chided.

The Slytherin rolled her eyes playfully. "They started it!" Rose gave her a sour look, and she apologised hastily, though it still had a hint of sarcasm. "Okay, okay, sorry. No more rogue behaviour before supper."

Now it was Rose's turn to roll her eyes, a slight smile playing on her lips.

"So, where are your thoughts wandering tonight?" Cat started casually, leaning once again over her Charms homework. "Down to the Hufflepuff basement?" Rose rolled her eyes again but didn't dignify that with a response. Cat sighed dreamily, sagging atop the desk with a cheek in her hand. "Can't say I blame you. Cute guys are a great distraction... Are you going to ask him to the Halloween party?"

"No," Rose said.

Cat immediately straightened up. "Aw, but why not?"

"Because it's all in your head?" Rose replied dryly. Then, almost as an afterthought, she added, "And I'm not going to the Halloween party."

"But it'll be fun!" Cat exclaimed. "Come on, you should loosen up a little for one night, what can it hurt?"

"It's..." Rose looked away. "It's a long story." Images flashed in her mind one after the other. A brightly lit party. Green toy soldier costumes. Running through a dark forest. The sounds of a giant, hairy body moving through the trees. Shadows of a fire dancing in the night. Moe, unconscious on the ground, Larry, pale and unmoving, Curly's hands red with blood… "I don't really want to talk about it."

Cat tilted her head to the side curiously but didn't press the issue.

"Good evening, ladies." A gorgeous boy smiled at them as he approached through the aisles of books, planting a kiss atop Cat's head before joining them on their table. "How's the homework going?"

Rose was sure that if a picture dictionary existed somewhere, a photo of Maxon Rhodes would be right under the term 'Adonis'. Cat's brother was ridiculously good-looking, with bright blue eyes, warm smile, jaw chiseled by some Renaissance sculptor and a body toned to perfection through rigorous Quidditch practice. She'd seen him shirtless. It was like looking at a work of art.

"Rose won't tell me the answer to question seven," Cat complained, pouting.

"Well, if she tells you the answers to everything, how will you ever learn?" Max teased, earning a smack on the shoulder.

"What are those?" his sister asked, pointing to the stack of leaflets in his hands.

"For the Dueling Club," he said, holding one up. "We're looking for new members. How about it, Rose? Ever thought of becoming a duelist?"

Rose shook her head with a polite smile. "No, thank you. I've never had to duel before, and I should hope it stays that way."

Max shrugged nonchalantly but said, "Hey, you never know. Better to be prepared than to be caught off-guard."

"If someone ever challenges me to a duel, you would be the first person I go to," Rose said, though she did take the leaflet, just to be polite. "Until that day, however, you'll have to look for members elsewhere."

"Aw, man," Max said, looking down at the leaflet and scratching the back of his head. "I was kind of hoping you guys would help me out… Cat?"

"Too busy, big brother," Cat replied. "I have a costume to rock and a party to party at."

"Right, almost forgot," Max said, straightening up. "We're hosting this year, aren't we?"

"You mean you haven't picked out a costume yet?" Cat stared at him in shock. "The party is _tomorrow_!"

"I'll figure something out," Max reassured her. "Maybe I'll just take off my shirt and turn my skin white. I can pass for a statue, right, Rose?"

"If you stand very, very still," Rose replied, keeping back a giggle. "Although the sight of a shirtless you might cause a few heart attacks."

Max grinned impishly. "That's why we'll have Curly there. And you can assist him with administering first aid."

"I don't know about Curly, but the last Halloween party I went to is going to last me a long time," Rose said.

"Wait, you're not coming?" Max said, surprised.

Rose sighed, and Cat placed a hand on Max's arm. "She doesn't feel like it."

Max looked from his sister to Rose and back, but caught on that there was some reason that the two didn't want to let him in on. He smiled warmly and said, "That's alright. There's always next year, then."

Rose smiled too, choosing not to reply. She didn't want to say a lie.


	8. Chapter 8

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 8**

It was shaping up to be a quiet evening.

Rose sat next to one of the tall windows in Ravenclaw tower, forehead pressed against the glass. Students passed behind her on their way out, and she could see their colourful reflections in the glass, hear the excitement in their voices as they speculated on who they would meet at the party and how the Gryffindors would decorate their tower. The younger kids, who weren't wearing costumes, were just as excited for the school feast, which was going to start roughly at the same time. Rose had considered attending that, at least, but she really wasn't in a good mood.

Fitz purred in her lap as she stroked his fur absentmindedly, eyes wandering to the dark outline of the Forbidden Forest.

* * *

-O-

 _Exactly one year and four days ago…_

"Practice among yourselves for a moment before you split off into groups of two and attempt conversation. Try to make use of the simple, common phrases. Do not be afraid to mispronounce anything; you are all still learning."

Rose leafed through her textbook, _Ancient Runes Made Easy_ , to find the right page, then jotted down a few phrases in her notebook. Suddenly, she felt someone slide down next to her and say something in Runic. Rose jumped in alarm, but calmed down when she saw it was just Curly. The ball in her stomach lessened.

Then he said, still in Runic, that he can't read runes, and she replied that this was good, then, because she could say whatever she wanted without him understanding.

He grinned. "So there _is_ a sense of humor under that perfect princess shell!" Rose didn't know how to respond to that, but there wasn't a real need to, because Curly immediately shot a question, "Are you coming to the Halloween party on Friday?"

"What Halloween party?" she asked.

"Oh, you know. _That_ party. It's gonna be in the Hufflepuff common room this year," he said, as if it was completely obvious what he was talking about. Seeing her confused face, he added, "Uh, you do know how to get there, don't you?"

Rose shook her head. Curly tore a parchment page from his notebook and started drawing her a map with ridiculous, cartoony landmarks. It had only been about six weeks now since she busted him throwing water balloons in the West Tower and saved him from plummeting to his death. She'd known he existed before, of course, but they'd never really… talked. Rose didn't really talk with anyone. It was strange, having someone approach you in the halls or in class and just… start a conversation. Like it was the most natural thing in the world. Rose was still getting used to that.

"Don't forget it's a costume party," he said to her as he illustrated the inside of a portrait she was supposed to make a right turn at. "You know, because of the Muggle thing."

Rose did not, in fact, know about the Muggle thing. "What do you mean?"

"Right, right. You're pureblood," he said, throwing her a smile. She wondered how he knew that, since she had never explicitly mentioned it. "Well, Muggles have this tradition where they put on costumes to scare away the evil forces or something. Nowadays it's just an excuse to dress up. My friends and I have a great idea for costumes this year!" When he put the finishing touches on it, he handed her the piece of parchment, grinning triumphantly. "There! The entrance is here, where the barrels are. You have to knock in a specific pattern; I wrote it here in the corner."

Rose studied the crude map, unable to help the small smile that tugged at the corner of her mouth. She'd never been to a school party before. Would it be okay to go?

Done with his task, Curly let his upper body slump across the desk and said, "I am sleepy. Ate too much – I knew I shouldn't have had that last helping of macaroni and cheese, but it was just so _good_."

She had to hold in a chuckle. "I'm surprised you're awake at all; I'd have thought you slept through most of your classes."

Feigning indignation, Curly drew himself up from the desk, placing a dramatic hand over his heart. "You misjudge me terribly, my lady! I would never sleep through class!" Relaxing into a grin, he added, "Unless it was completely boring, talking about something I already know, or something I'm not interested in. But, I didn't take any electives like that, so I doubt I'll be getting any extra sleep anytime soon."

Rose stared at him, blinking slowly, and just like that, she realised that she didn't consider any of her classes boring. Or interesting. She took them because it was what a Waltz should know. She was going to take over Waltz Industries from her father one day, that much had always been made perfectly clear to her, and she had to be ready.

"Interest isn't as important as being prepared for the future," she said slowly. "There are certain things one needs to know to be a good leader. I've chosen these specific subjects with a purpose."

"Pursuing your own interests doesn't mean you're not going to be a good leader," he said, tilting his head to the side in consideration. "I mean, I'm supposed to take over for my mum when she retires, and my parents expect me to be a good leader, but they also expect me to..." His eyes left Rose as he waved his hand in small motions, searching for the right word. "Be real? I've been to the clinic before, and the people there know that I'm a person as well as their future boss – they _want_ me to be a person, not just a name on a door or a figure behind a desk. It's easier—better—to trust someone they can know."

Rose stared at him, dumbfound.

"I _am_ a person," she muttered under her breath. "Just because I base my decisions around my future, that does not mean I'm not real!" Rose snapped and shot to her feet, surprising even herself. "Professor Babbling, I'm not feeling well. I must go to see Madam Longbottom."

Grabbing her bag from beneath the desk, where she had left it in the beginning of class, Rose stormed out of the classroom without waiting for the teacher's answer under the class'—and Curly's—startled stares.

* * *

-o-

The party was noisier than she'd expected. Not that she'd known what to expect. _It doesn't look so scary_ , she thought as she made her way around the Hufflepuff common room, decorated in the spirit of the season with floating jack-o-lanterns and swooping bats. There was candy and pumpkin juice everywhere, and Rose had to duck to avoid a handful of candy corn that a boy had playfully thrown at his friend. Her red butterfly wings—in reality two rolls of parchment she had transfigured and stuck to her back—trembled gently with each step she took.

Wandering aimlessly and just observing, Rose began to have doubts about coming here. She'd been sitting in her room earlier that night, debating the issue, and a big part of her was tempted to just skip the affair entirely. After all, this wasn't a school-organised event, and therefore was breaking the rules. It wasn't a proper place for a pureblood witch. But then she'd remembered Curly's remark in class, and irritation and sheer stubbornness had flared up and prevailed in the end. She didn't just do what she was supposed to; she was real, damn it, and she was going to prove it!

Rose walked between people dressed as scary ghouls or decomposing Inferi, starting to feel a little out of place in her home-made, put-together-at-the-last-second butterfly costume. She passed a boy dressed as a green toy soldier and looked at him for a few seconds, letting out a small sigh of relief. It seemed that she wasn't the only one that had opted for creative. Then, unexpectedly, he walked towards her and said,

"H-h-h-i...Hi." An awkward green grip shot out, offering a handshake. "I'm-m-muh-Moe. C-Curly's fr-fr-fr-friend."

Curly's friend? Rose' back stiffened. Why did he leave a trace everywhere she went? But... it wasn't this boy's fault that he was friends with Curly, or that Rose was mad at him at the moment. She hadn't even spoken to him since that day in Ancient Runes.

"Hello," she said, fighting the urge to curtsy. "I am Rose Waltz, of the House of Waltz. It is a pleasure to meet you." She took his hand.

Rose tried not to sound uptight. Really, she did. It just didn't work out so well.

"I-I-I know... I-I mean, he-he-hello," Moe stuttered. "I-I... You-Your costume... But-t-t-ter-fl-fly. It's n-ni-nice." His voice cracked a little at the end.

Rose watched him struggle to talk to her and gave him a smile. A real, genuine smile. This shy boy with a stutter seemed just as nervous as her to meet new people, even if he did not hide it as well. Maybe this party thing wasn't that big of a mistake.

"Thank you," she said, giving his hand a light squeeze to let him know it was alright before letting go of it. "I made it myself. I like yours too. It's very... imaginative."

When they noticed another green figure approach, Moe visibly sagged in relief. "Larry!" He pointed a finger in her direction. "It's R-R-Rose. Rose."

"Larry?" she echoed, surprised. Her fellow perfect was one of the few people she had started speaking to on regular basis this year, owing to their patrols together. Even covered in green face paint there was no way she could mistake him for anyone else.

"Ah," Larry sounded, giving her a smile. "Rose. Happy Halloween. I'd offer you my hand, but this green gunk is likely to spread to you, too." Then Larry turned to Moe, literally, and snapped a salute into place. " _Mon capitaine!_ How is it? Taking pictures?"

When he saluted, Rose couldn't help it and giggled quietly into her hand. It was a really cute idea to go as an "army unit".

Moe immediately seemed to relax. "Yeah. Retrofitted an M16 to shoot pictures instead of bullets." He raised his gun to show his friend. "Pull the trigger and I can take a single frame. Hold it down and I can take multiple, kind of like how semi-autos can shoot multiple bullets or a single."

Rose's smile grew a little when she saw his stutter disappear as if by magic. "Wow... I would have never thought of doing that," she said, genuinely impressed. "What a clever idea."

"Moe is quite clever, Rose. I have never seen someone so gifted with technology," Larry said, and Moe's green face grew a few shades darker.

That was when a third soldier popped up behind Larry and Moe, slinging an arm over each of his friends' shoulders. "Hello, _mis amigos_!" he said cheerfully. "I see everyone's met everyone else. Awesome! How goes the party? Anyone see a costume more awesome than ours?"

Rose felt her stomach drop and the smile slip from her face. "Hello, Curran," she said stiffly, her voice cold. She'd never called him by his full name before; it felt strange.

Larry turned his head towards his friend, raising an eyebrow. "Are we in trouble, _Curran_?"

"Rose is mad at me," Curly answered sotto voice. "I don't know why, though. She won't talk to me." In an attempt to make light of the situation, he poked Moe in the side. "Ask her why she's mad at me. Oh, and tell her I have her Runes notebook if she wants it back."

Rose could have possibly handled this with a little bit of poise. _If_ Curly had addressed her directly. When he spoke about her like this, like she really _wasn't_ real, it lit something inside her. Her hands balled into fists, clenching to stop her from shaking in anger so hard the knuckles turned white.

"Kindly do not speak about me as if I am not even present," she said icily, coldness practically radiating from her. "And you know what, you can keep that notebook; I don't want to be in your presence for longer than absolutely necessary! From now on, just... stay away from me."

And without even waiting to hear the response, she elbowed her way through the crowd and out into the Hufflepuff basement. Music still throbbed behind her, but she just kept walking, walking forward, not caring where. When she made it into the Entrance Hall and heard the sound coming from the feast, her steps quickened, and she instinctively turned away from it, away from the light and the laughter and the happiness that other people were feeling. She needed air.

Out the big oaken door, she found herself on the grounds. There were some students sitting on the stairs, and she walked past them, not wanting to linger next to strangers or be seen this upset. The group seemed a little drunk already, so they didn't pay her any mind, but she still wanted to get away, find a place where she could just be alone, so she continued walking forward, forward, anywhere. Rose stomped between the trees—when had she reached the tree line?—not even caring where she was going. She was sad, and angry, and hurt, and just wanted to be as far away from Curly as humanly possible.

All she could think about was that the very first person she had maybe considered a friend treated her like she wasn't even there. And that, while he probably hadn't meant to insult her, he had stated his opinion on people like her — doing things because you are told to makes you less human. It makes you less real.

Tears stung at the corners of her eyes, but Rose refused to let them fall. Why did it matter what he thought? So what if she wasn't real to him, what of it? He was just some guy she met at school. Just because she had started to think of him as a friend, that didn't mean he felt the same way. She was just a random person he had classes with.

Real. Real. Real.

Rose stopped walking, her head bowing low. Her fists clenched tighter. Her whole body shook.

A few teardrops fell at her feet.

"Rose? Rose!"

Curly's voice penetrated the air, and Rose's whole body immediately turned to stone.

"Rose! Where are you?"

She wiped her eyes, which didn't exactly hide how red they were, and her head whipped around frantically, looking for a place to hide. There was nothing but trees, trees as far as the eye could see, so she quickly ducked behind the thickest trunk she could spot. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, Rose leaned her back against the tree and tried to brush away what was left of her tears. However, she had forgotten to take into account the wide wingspan of her costume, and the tips of her red wings still poked around the trunk.

His steps came closer. Dry leaves crunched under his shoes. When he spoke again he was close, too close. On the other side of the tree.

"Rose..." He sighed. "I'm sorry. Whatever I did, I didn't mean it. I'm just... stupid sometimes."

Her legs gave way, and she slid down the trunk until she was sitting on the ground at the base of the tree, arms wrapped around her knees. "Just... leave me alone, Curly," she said sadly, and to her horror, her voice broke.

Why did he even come after her? Clearly he didn't care enough to even notice what had upset her. She was just a damsel in his head, a princess that needed saving. That was why he followed. Because it was the "noble" thing to do.

Rose felt the hot tracks of tears down her cheeks again.

"Rose..." he said, his own voice almost agonised. "Just tell me what I did. Please? How can I make it better if I don't know what I did wrong?" Silence. "Please, Rose. Tell me and let me try to make it up to you. I can't be less of an idiot if you don't tell me how I was an idiot in the first place."

The notes of sincerity in his voice made Rose want to be honest with him in kind. And with herself.

"You can't make it better, Curly," Rose said, trying to keep her voice from shaking. That was not a fair explanation at all. She wasn't very good at this, wasn't used to talking about such things. But she owed him more than that. "You... you just... you don't know what... what _effect_ you have on me. You make a casual comment about something, and suddenly I find myself seeing everything in a brand new way. You make a joke, and I realise things about myself I never thought of before. I just, I've never..." She swallowed thickly. "I've never had a friend before. And I thought... I know it was silly and presumptuous of me, but you're the first person I've ever thought of as a friend." Rose took in a shaky breath. "But... you're not like me. You have friends, and you're so... open. You don't need me.

"What am I to you, Curly?" Rose asked quietly. "You talk about me as if I'm not there, and you say that people who do things that are expected of them like I do aren't real. Am I real to you? Am I just a project, someone for you to help? A princess that needs saving? That is why you followed me, isn't it, because it's dangerous for a girl to be alone in the woods? Can you deny that you'd do that even for a person you didn't know?"

He jerked into motion, scrambling around the tree. Without hesitation, he dropped to his knees beside her and reached for her, his hand on her shoulder. "I don't have to need someone to want to be their friend," he said. "I want to be your friend, Rose. I want you to be _my_ friend. You're not just some girl — you're Rose! You're overly formal and you worry about getting in trouble and always think about doing the right thing, and that's just part of who you are. And don't think that's all you are, either. Of course you're real to me — and yeah, I may follow just about anyone into the woods to make sure they don't get hurt, but that's just... that's who _I_ am. You can't make that into something to make you think less of yourself."

"But that's just it," she said, frustrated. "I've been raised to be this way, don't you see? Raised to be proper and not want to get in trouble. You were right in class, I do things because I am told to do them!" Her hands curled into fists, and she whispered, "Curly, I don't... I don't even have a favourite food. Or a favourite colour. Every step, every single decision in my life has been carefully shaped by the expectations of my father and my family. I am who I'm supposed to be. A good, pureblood princess, ready to head the House when it's time for her to do so, smart and poised and elegant and everything else I'm expected to be. But the girl behind the title? That girl doesn't exist. I'm just a doll, dressed and made up, sitting pretty in her glass display. Nothing more. You might not have meant it in this way, but it's true — I'm not real."

There was a rustling sound from deep within the woods, and Rose heard someone swearing. Swearing in French.

They both looked up, staring unseeingly in the direction of the sound.

"Larry?" Curly called out to the darkness. "You okay?"

No answer came.

"Do you think he's in trouble?" she said quietly.

"I hope not," Curly said, eyes still staring off into the distance. When he looked back at her though, he winced at the sight of her tear-streaked face and reached out to wipe away the wetness. "He's supposed to be the one who saves me, not the other way around." Turning his eyes back to the woods, trying to pinpoint where Larry's voice had come from, he added worriedly, "But, um... let's go check on him and then come back to this conversation?"

"Yeah," she said, standing up. "We should check up on him." She looked to the trees again. Whatever was going on with her suddenly took a back seat in her mind; she was starting to really get worried about Larry.

Curly stood as well, taking Rose's hand as he did so, and pulled her with him toward Larry's voice, at nearly the same moment Moe called out as well. She did not like the noises coming from that darkness, not one bit. What was going on? Storming in here when she was upset and angry was one thing, but walking around when emotions aren't clouding your judgement... that was a whole different story. What had she been thinking?

Oh, right. She hadn't.

The noises became louder. It sounded like… a large animal thrashing about.

Curly quickened the pace, pulling her along. Then he broke into a run. When they made it to the scene, the breath hitched in her throat. A giant, dark silhouette was looming over a green-clad figure hunched against a tree. A wand light—probably Moe's—illuminated the scene from a few feet over. Curly clutched her hand tighter, but it was all she could do not to pass out.

A giant spider, which was struggling with some sort of thick vines tangled in its body, had cornered Larry. And he was bleeding.

Curly's wand was instantly in his hand. "Oh shit," he breathed. Eyes wide, he looked at Rose, speaking quickly. "You and Moe take care of the spider," he said. "I have to get Larry." Not waiting for a response, Curly let go of Rose's hand and dove under the flailing vines that had wrapped themselves around the spider, heading for his friend.

 _Larry was bleeding._

The thought shot an electrical shock through Rose, sobering her mind in an instant. Her blue eyes turned to the Acromantula, and the text of _Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them_ flashed to the forefront of her mind. Acromantula. Giant Spider. Inhabits jungles and forested areas. Prefers large prey. **_Has poisonous secretion_**. She had to act, and fast, or Larry was done for. They had to take him to the Hospital Wing before the poison could reach his heart and do something irreversible.

Rose circled the creature, which was still struggling with the out-of-control vines waving all over the place, trying to get to Moe. As she did, she managed to get a better look at them and realised that they shied away from the light. _A Devil's Snare_ , her brain whispered. Except that those plants were not typically found in British forests, which this definitely was. It occurred to her that, incredibly, Larry must have conjured it to defend himself. He _conjured_ a _Devil's Snare_! They weren't even supposed to start studying conjuration until next year; that was some very impressive—

"Look out!"

A pair of arms wrapped around her, shielding her from the blow of the Acromantula's hairy leg. Rose was sent flying by the impact and tumbled down to the ground, entangled in the other body, a sharp pain shooting up her arm. When they finally stopped rolling and the world was still again, she saw the unconscious Moe lying beside her, helmet knocked off and a streak of red matted in his short brown hair. For a second, her heart just stopped.

"Moe." She shook his shoulder. "Moe!" There was no response.

Her head whipped around to look at the Acromantula, which had once again turned its attention to the two boys at the tree. A sudden sense of dread befell her like a suffocating blanket. Could she do this without him? How was she supposed to take down a two-ton spider on her own, she was just a girl!

A loud creaking sound snapped her back to reality. The monster had sliced through the Devil's Snare with its pincers and was advancing on the Shield Charm Curly had made for protection. It banged on it, the magic glowing when struck by the long, hairy appendages. In the light of Moe's wand, Rose could still see Larry's limp form, and Curly, bent over him. If she didn't do something, and fast, they were both going to die.

Fear gripped her heart once more, clearing her thoughts. A solution, she needed a solution. How do you get rid of a spider?

She rose to her feet, pulling out her own wand. Determination turning her blood into steel, she raised it and said evenly, " _Incendio_."

A roaring column of flame erupted from her wand, and the Acromantula wailed in pain as its body quickly became enveloped in it. Rose backed away, then ran to where she had left the unconscious Moe, dragging him to the other side of the closest tree. Kneeling next to him, she listened to the monster thrash around, hoping to every higher power Curly and Larry would not get trampled, and watched the shadows dance ominously on the ground.

After the sounds died down, she peeked around the tree. The spider was on its back, still burning, its legs waving around helplessly. Then it stilled.

Rose pointed her wand at Moe and levitated his body as she made her way to the others. She then leaned on the trunk with one hand, almost collapsing from worry. Curly had both hands on his friend, a bright yellow glow shining beneath his palms like a miniature sun. Some small part of her registered that he was not using a wand, but the majority of her attention was glued to Larry, who had passed out, presumably from the pain. His face was ghostly white, and he was still and unmoving. Rose felt her throat tighten and the corners of her eyes sting. This boy, who was smart and courteous, who had entered these woods because she was stupid enough to come this way, he could die from this, and it would be _all her fault_.

"Curly..." she managed to say. "He... is he..."

Rose couldn't even finish that thought.

"We need to get him to the Hospital Wing." His voice came out steady, but the grimness in it only cemented in her mind the severity of the situation. Shrugging off his jacket, Curly pressed the un-dyed inside portion against the puncture wounds still weeping blood from Larry's abdomen. He used the sleeves to tie the makeshift pressure dressing in place, then levitated his unconscious friend.

Then he took Rose's hand again, and they started briskly in the direction of the school, the two bodies floating beside them.

* * *

-O-

"Hey, Rose."

Rose tore her eyes away from the forest and looked at the freckled face of Carter Hightopp, though her attention was almost stolen by the large purple top hat above it.

She managed a weak smile. "Hi, Carter. Your costume looks very nice."

He beamed. "Thank you. Listen, Larry told me to give you a message from him. He said to meet him in the Lab, and that you'd know what it meant."

Rose put Fitz down. "Yes, I do. Thank you for telling me. Have a good time at the party."

Carter waved at her and left the common room, making her realise that she was the last one there. Rose stood and stretched. As she crossed the room and started towards the seventh floor, she wondered idly why Larry wanted her to meet him there. Had they discovered something new about the Cloak? Some other piece of the puzzle? But if so, why didn't he tell her in person?

 _They must want me to see something_ , she thought, facing the dancing trolls tapestry. Right on cue, the door to the Lab was there when she turned around, and she gripped the handle firmly.

"Oh crap, she's early!" she heard Curly say from inside when she gave it a turn, before pulling the door open and having all three shout at her,

"SURPRISE!"

Rose stood in the doorway, not sure what was supposed to be so surprising. The space in the middle of the Lab had been cleared away—was it her or did the room seem more spacious than before?—and there were four blue beanbag chairs in the middle instead of two, along with a few floating bowls of snacks. Some she recognised as Curly's pastries (she had tried his chocolate and cinnamon bat-shaped cookies before), but there was also popcorn, candy corn, chocolate cauldrons, licorice wands and a few other items.

"What's… all this?" she asked.

"It's movie night!" Larry announced, grinning from ear to ear.

Rose wasn't sure she understood. "Movie night?"

Curly reached for her hands and pulled her in impatiently. "Yes! Since we all wanted to skip Halloween this year, we thought that maybe we can have one of our movie nights, and since you're here, you can come too!"

She let him pull her to the beanbags but moved her confused gaze back to Larry, hoping he would make sense of this.

"It's a tradition," Larry said. "In the summer, we have sleepovers and watch superhero movies."

"Superheroes," Rose said as she sat down, and something clicked in her head. Images of still, unmoving comic books flooded her mind. "You mean like your Spider Man comics?"

Larry nodded, beaming, and flopped down next to her.

"Aw, man," Curly said, sitting on her other side. "How come you remember his comic book heroes and not mine?"

"You've never shown me any of yours," she said simply.

"Well, now you'll get to see them!" Curly said triumphantly, shoving a fistful of popcorn into his mouth. "We're watching the Avengers movies, and the third one has Spider Man in it."

Larry leaned over to her and whispered, "Curly gets really passionate about this stuff."

"You'll like it, trust me," Curly said confidently. "Especially Captain America, he's so gonna be your favourite."

Larry raised an eyebrow. "I think you're confusing that with _your_ favourite."

Curly shook his head. "For me it's a toss between Cap and Iron-man, but Rose will like Cap the best. I'm sure of it."

An impish grin appeared on Larry's face. "Sure enough to make a small bet?"

"You're on!"

"My entire Chocolate Frogs stash says she likes Banner better."

For a moment, that seemed to give Curly pause. Then he shook his head and took Larry's hand to shake it. "Deal. Rose, make sure to leave some space in your stomach because we'll be eating Larry's Chocolate Frogs after this."

"You stand no chance," Larry said smugly. "A tortured scientist, forced to bottle his emotions? If she were a Muggle, she'd cosplay as him at conventions."

Rose felt very confused. She had no idea what 'cosplay' meant, and the conversation seemed only semi-coherent to her.

"Aaaand DONE!" Moe exclaimed from his work table, waving a rectangular device in his hand with a victorious grin.

"What's that?" Rose asked curiously, watching him levitate it in the air before sitting down on Curly's other side.

"I took your advice," Moe said, blinding her with a megawatt smile. "Shield Charm around the electronics to keep the magic from interfering with the circuitry. Like a Faraday Cage. So far I've only ever done it on my iPhone, but..." His wand made an arc in the air, and the device grew in size, becoming like a fifth wall in the room.

Music blared from it, and the boys reclined back into their chairs.

"You are awesome," Curly said as a matter of fact, shoving more popcorn into his mouth.

"I concur," Larry said. "Awesomer than awesome."

"The awesomest," Curly finished.

Rose couldn't see his face, but she was sure that Moe was blushing. Without saying anything, Moe's wand hand made another motion through the air, and the light of the torches dimmed. Rose plucked a floating green bowl of sweet popcorn and nestled it in her lap.

And there, in the dark room that didn't always exist, a lonely girl named Rose, who once wasn't sure that she herself existed, ate caramel popcorn and watched a movie about superheroes. And sitting here, between the three boys that had changed her in ways they couldn't even comprehend, she felt for the first time that she belonged somewhere.


	9. Chapter 9

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 9**

Moe carefully twisted the lens on his wizarding camera. The Bowtruckle came into focus as it continued walking along a twig, almost blending in with the green leaves of the blackthorn bush. Moe snapped a few shots and held his breath as he watched the creature approach its nest. And that was when he saw them – five or six more Bowtruckles, all living inside. A whole branch! Moe looked up from his camera and swallowed thickly. This could make for some amazing pictures, but Bowtruckles were known to fly off the handle if they felt threatened, and they tended to go for the eyes. The Gryffindor ducked back behind the lens, silently taking aim. A few more quick shots, and he heard a small cracking sound as a round egg in one of the nests shook. _The eggs are hatching!_ Moe thought excitedly. He wasn't a wildlife photographer, but a picture like this would be as rare as an Alchemy class without an explosion! He had to get closer.

The young wizard slowly rose from his crouching position behind the low stone fence of Hagrid's pumpkin patch, careful not to startle the creatures. Approaching as quietly as he could, Moe made it all the way to the blackthorn bush when one of the Bowtruckles noticed him. He ducked behind his camera, preparing for an attack, but after a few seconds went by and nothing tried to poke his eyes out, he took another careful look just in time to catch the last of the tiny green creatures skitter away.

"No, w-wa-wait!" he called after them, taking last few clumsy step towards the empty nest. "I wa-wasn't g-going to—" Suddenly, he froze. "I wasn't doing anything," he said under his breath. "I didn't do anything!" Moe shouted, a large grin breaking across his face.

Then he turned and ran.

* * *

-O-

Curly was gonna choke.

"And then, and then," Teddy continued in-between peals of laughter, "Then he asks me, 'Excuse me, Miss, have you seen a Gryffindor student run this way? He's got all my frogs."

Curly and the other Hufflepuffs that had gathered around the Head Boy guffawed once again.

"You've gotta teach me how to be a metamorphmagus!" Leo insisted through the laughter. "I'll pay you your weight in gold!"

"It's hereditary," Curly replied before Teddy could, wiping a tear from the corner of his eye. "Trust me, I tried to pester him into teaching me in first year."

"Would have caved, if I could," Teddy said, ruffling his hair playfully. "He pretty much became my permanent shadow for the first semester; wouldn't even let me go to the loo without whining about it on the other end."

The Hufflepuffs laughed again, when suddenly the common room door swung open and Moe burst in.

"Hey, Moe," Curly greeted, waving to his friend.

Moe careened towards him and grabbed him by the robes, trying to pull him up. "C-c-come on! Need t-t-t-have t-to exp-p-plain!"

And with that Curly was yanked off his feet and dragged away.

Despite being the quietest of the three, Moe was definitely the strongest, physically, so it was an easy feat. After they were finally alone in one of the niches along the hallway, Moe started making more sense. Well, kind of.

"I was ta-taking pictures outside, and I di-didn't do anything! N-nothing ha-happened!"

Curly raised an eyebrow. "Okay? I'm sure you'll do better when you fix the camera—"

"No!" Moe said impatiently, pointing to his camera. "My camera works _fine_ ; I wa-was there ta-taking pictures, and no-no-nothing happened!"

Curly stared at his friend, struggling to understand. "Pictures of what?" he said finally.

"Of Bow-bowtruckles!" Moe stuttered, getting increasingly more frustrated. "Like at a mus-se-se-seum!"

And then it dawned on him. "Just like in the Magical History Museum? You think that's what the Cloak did in there?" Moe nodded vigorously. Curly stared unseeingly down the corridor, trying to put it all together in his head. "And that's why nothing was stolen. They broke in, took pictures and left. Nothing happened." Moe nodded once again. "We need to tell Larry and Rose. Come on!"

The two ran down the corridor and swerved left into the secret passageway that led up to the third floor, then sprinted all the way to the Library. Predictably, they found Larry in his usual corner.

"Moe figured it out," Curly said, as loud as he dared, sliding on the table across from his friend, with Moe following swiftly.

Larry looked up from his book. "Figured out what?"

"The-the article, from The Quibbler," Moe whispered. "They broke in but didn't take anything. What if they took pictures?"

Larry stared at him for a second, then put the book down. "Would explain why they didn't touch anything else," he said slowly.

"And we know they're not above taking what they want," Curly added. "According to Harry Potter, they've stolen from the museum before. It has to be something like this!"

Moe nodded enthusiastically.

Larry's eyes moved from one to the other. "I agree," he said simply. "But that doesn't really help us. They could have taken pictures of absolutely anything."

Moe shook his head. "If they could have taken it, they w-would have. It must be something too big or heavy, or too fragile." He turned to Curly. "How can we find out what's in that exhibition?"

Curly huffed a laugh and shrugged. "We could go and see it?"

"What, during school hours?" Larry quipped, one eyebrow raised sardonically. "Unless you've secretly passed the test already, we can't just Apparate to London."

Curly was quick to respond with, "We can go during winter break." Moe nodded again.

Larry shot gave them a thoughtful look. "Winter break sounds good to me, but there's a quicker way to get a bit of information," he said. "There's a branch of the Globus Mundi Travel Agents in Hogsmeade; I'd bet fifty galleons that there's at least one brochure on the Museum of Magical History."

"So it's decided then!" Curly said. "We'll go on the weekend and have a look around."

"We'll go on Sunday, you mean," Larry corrected him, inclining his head towards Moe.

Curly turned to his friend and immediately slapped his forehead. "Your quidditch match! Duh, it's on Saturday!" He laughed as quietly as he could. "Obviously we'll go after that."

Larry's mouth twisted in a wry smile. "Moe and the Gryffindors will be busy celebrating a win. What about next weekend?"

Moe's face immediately flushed, but Curly grinned widely and clapped his back. "Hah, should have thought of how tired he'd be after all that partying. Sorry, buddy." Moe tried to mumble that it wasn't a sure win and that they could do Sunday, but his two friends just exchanged grins and pretended not to hear. "We're not in a rush anyway, since we can't actually go to the museum until mid-December," Curly said. "Next weekend works just fine; gives us time to talk Rose into it. Uh, where is Rose?"

"She said she had to talk to some guy from the Frog Choir," Larry said.

* * *

-O-

The seventh years slowly trickled out of the Charms classroom as Rose hovered near the window on the opposite wall, waiting to catch a glimpse of blond hair. Most of the class didn't notice her, but she still felt awkward just standing there as if stalking him. Well, she supposed she sort of was, but thinking that actually made her a million times more self-conscious. Just as she was about to give up and leave before someone asked why she was loitering, a voice and a bright smile caught her off guard.

"Blondie!"

She almost cringed at the nickname. He'd started calling her that since before she had introduced herself to him, and by now she felt it would be rude to tell him she hated it.

"Hi, Rhett," Rose said as he approached, aware that if no one had paid her attention before, they were now.

"Hey," he said, adjusting the strap of his school bag. "Were you waiting here just for me? Aw, you melt my heart, Rosie-Rose."

A few girls eyed them as they passed by and giggled. Rose felt heat rise to her face at the implication, but she knew Rhett was teasing her on purpose.

"Listen," she said, getting down to business. "I need your help again. Remember the banner you made for Curly at last year's Quidditch Championship?"

Rhett clutched his chest, pretending to be in pain. "Ah, she comes asking me to help her with another guy! You wound me real deep, Blondie." A second later he straightened up and laughed. "It's a bit soon for the Championship this year, don't you think? We don't even know if Hufflepuff will make it."

"It's not for him," Rose said. "It's Moe's first match on Saturday and… I was wondering if you could… It would show support, and he's so nervous in crowds…" She looked at him imploringly, well aware that her argument was less than coherent. "You're the only one I know that's good at drawing."

Rhett laughed. "Ah, the list of my rivals for your heart is ever-growing, huh?" Rose pouted at him and he laughed again. "Sure thing, Blondie, anything for my choir buddy. Meet me in the changing room before the match and I'll have it ready for ya, how does that sound?"

"You'll do it?" Rose asked happily. "Oh, thank you! I'll find a way to repay you, I promise!" Maybe she could get Curly to bake him muffins. "Here, can you have it say this?" She handed him a piece of parchment.

Rhett winked, taking it. "I might just hold you to that." Then he unfurled the parchment and laughed. "You got it. See you Saturday!"

He waved at her and joined the current of students walking along the corridor, quickly disappearing from view. Rose waved after him, surprised but happy about how easy it was to elicit his help. It would make for a very nice surprise for Moe when he flew up and saw the banner in the stands.

"Rose?"

She jumped, startled by the sudden greeting, and dropped her bag. Turning around, the young witch was relieved to find Max Rhodes, bending down and holding up the strap of the bag to her.

"Thanks," Rose said, taking it gratefully. "Sorry, I didn't see you there."

"Did I just see you talking to Rhett Hart?" Max asked her, eyes wandering to the direction where Rhett had disappeared, eyebrows locked in a frown.

"Yes..." she replied hesitantly. "We're in the Frog Choir together. Why?"

"He's..." Max's eyes returned to Rose, and his expression softened as he struggled to find the right words. "He's… weird. It's hard to explain, but there's something seriously wrong with the guy."

Now it was Rose's turn to frown. "How do you mean?"

Max rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. "I know he seems normal on the surface, but… Look, I've shared a dorm with him for seven years, and I'm telling you, something about him is just _off_. Like he has a screw loose in his head."

Rose raised an eyebrow sceptically. "And what are you basing this on, exactly?"

"Well..." Max seemed to flounder. "I haven't actually caught him doing anything, but...there have been… things. Incidents. I've told Cat to stay away from him already, and you should do the same. For your own good."

"You aren't my brother, Max," Rose said coolly.

"That doesn't mean I want to see you hurt," he countered. "Rhett Hart is bad news."

"I'm perfectly capable of deciding who is bad and who is good, thank you," Rose said, then turned and walked away.

She knew, of course, that Max hadn't been trying to control her; he'd just been trying to look out for her. But still, Rhett seemed… nice. Well, he teased her a lot, trying to get a reaction out of her, but that didn't make him a bad person. Come to think of it, Max hadn't really provided any sort of proof to back up his statements, and as Rose walked with Larry and Curly towards the changing rooms on the windy Saturday morning, she wondered if Rhett and Max had some sort of personal falling out.

With their House scarves flapping in the wind, the tree reached the Gryffindor changing room and Curly quickly did a complicated knock, then barged in without waiting for an answer. "Hey everybody! Ready for the big game?"

"Curly!" a few of the Gryffindors exclaimed, eyeing the basket swinging from his arm, and Rose was surprised to find Cat with the Gryffindor team, probably there for the same reason as them – wishing them—and Max—good luck.

"Who wants a good luck cookie? Still waaarm," Curly said, grinning from ear to ear.

Larry and Rose followed in behind him, though their presence wasn't met with nearly the same amount of enthusiasm. The Gryffindor team crowded around the cookies, so they sidestepped to reach Moe, who looked like he was about to vomit.

"You doing okay?" Larry asked, giving him a light pat on the back. Moe nodded, letting out an incoherent string of sounds. He looked rather pale.

"I'm sure you'll be great," Rose chimed in. "All that practice couldn't have been for nothing, right?"

Moe nodded again, but remained mute as a fish. Larry and Rose exchanged a look – this was not a good sign.

"Rose is right. We've seen you fly – you'll perform admirably. You just have to… relax," Larry said again, trying to sound reassuring. "The more nervous you are, the more prone to mistakes you'll be."

Moe gulped audibly.

Rose hit Larry's arm lightly, shooting him a reprimanding look. "What he means," she said, smiling at Moe, "is that we believe in you. And we'll be cheering for you from the stands."

"Louder than the whole school!" Curly finished, making his way over. "Here, have one," he added, shoving a chocolate chip cookie into Moe's hand. "Before your team eat them all. Best not to fly on an empty stomach."

Moe took the cookie and bit into it just as Rose caught sight of Rhett, who motioned to a corner of the changing room a little apart from the rest of the team. She made her way over and he whispered, "I have it in my locker. Wait here, I'll bring it."

Then he sank into a door to the right and Rose sat on the bench where, judging by the big white board stuck to the wall, the team usually discussed strategy. She studied the circles and lines drawn on it for a few minutes or so when someone plopped down next to her.

"So Rose, we're going to Hogsmeade next weekend," Curly said, swinging his legs over the bench so they could face the same direction. "Moe thinks he's figured out why the Cloak broke into the Museum of Magical History, but we need to get our hands on a leaflet for the exhibition. Plus, I need to pick up a few things from the Magical Menagerie. You're coming, right?"

She stared at him, slightly taken aback. "Hogsmeade? Next weekend? I don't know, it's such short notice..."

"It's a whole week's notice!" Curly exclaimed in mock-offence. Then he added more sincerely, "Come on, it'll be fun. I promise."

Rose chewed on her bottom lip undecidedly. "Ah, well… okay," she consented. "I suppose it couldn't hurt."

Curly beamed. "Great!" Then he twisted around to throw a look at Moe, Larry and the other Gryffindors at the other end of the changing room. "So, uh… what are you doing on this bench?"

Rose leaned closer and whispered conspiratorially, "I'm getting a surprise for Moe, but he can't see it until he's in the air."

"Got it," Curly said with a dead-serious expression, giving her a salute. "I'll keep him distracted." Then he clambered over the bench with unnecessary flailing of limbs that made her chuckle.

Rose shook her head and heard someone else try to stifle a laugh as well. Her eyes were drawn to the right, where Max was casually leaning against the wall, talking with Cat, who had a cookie in each hand.

"He finally asked you out, huh? About time," Max said as he took a bite of his own cookie.

Rose threw Cat an accusatory look. "What did you tell him?"

Cat threw up her hands. "Nothing! He has _eyes_."

Max looked from one girl to the other. "Did I say something wrong? I think you make a cute couple..."

Rose sighed in frustration. "All four of us are going to Hogsmeade, and for the last time, Curly and I are not a couple." Honestly, how many times did she have to say this?

Max seemed slightly startled by the denial, but Cat was more or less unperturbed. "So you keep saying..."

Rose opened her mouth to reply, but at that exact moment Rhett reappeared into the room, holding a metre-wide rolled-up piece of thick parchment.

"Thank you so much," she said when he handed it over.

"Hey, no problem. I had fun making it," he said, flashing her a smile. For a moment she was a bit distracted by the thought that he'd make a great toothpaste model.

Max clapped his hands loudly behind them. "Alright, team, enough cookies! Time to get out there and show them why we're the Lions!"

The Gryffindors cheered loudly, pumping their fists in the air, then shuffled into the same door Rhett had emerged from.

"Good luck!" Cat called out to them.

Curly and Larry gave Moe one last pat on the back, and Rose tried to smile encouragingly before all three of them left the changing room with Cat and headed to the stands.

* * *

-O-

Curly and the two Ravenclaw prefects followed Cat to where her best friend, Elise, was sitting. She greeted them cheerfully, and they and filled the four adjoining seats next to her.

"So what it is?" Curly said, barely waiting until they were all settled to ask. He'd been eyeing the parchment since Rose got it from that Gryffindor Chaser.

"It's a banner!" Rose said happily.

She unrolled it and handed the rest to Larry and Curly to hold up. Curly threw one look at it and laughed heartily. There was a big, golden lion pouncing across a scarlet background with the words NORTH IS THE WAY TO GO! etched above it and yellow fireworks erupting behind it. Suddenly, the lion stopped walking and gave out a deafening roar, which startled the surrounding students. Then all eyes were drawn to the pitch, where both teams were gathered in the centre.

"The Captains, Rhodes and Murton, shake hands," sounded the voice of the commentator, Molly Weasley, echoing in the chilly air. "And they're off!"

Everyone cheered, and Rose, Larry and Curly held up the banner. The lion roared proudly once more, though the impact was lessened somewhat this time, as the crowd was being just as loud. Curly's eyes followed the red spot he knew was Moe to the leftmost goal post and yelled support at the top of his lungs. Moe could do this, he knew it!

"And it looks like Moses North, the new Gryffindor Beater, has a few fans in the crowd!" Molly announced, and Curly and his two friends cheered even louder. Even from all the way down there, Curly could see Moe's giant grin.

A whistle blew sharply in the air, and the Quaffle was thrown up. Harper, one of the Slytherin Chasers, swooped down and caught it right under the nose of Roxanne Weasley. Suddenly a Bludger hit the tail end of Harper's broom; he dropped the Quaffle and Max whizzed past below, snatching it. Curly saw a glimpse of the satisfied smirk on Moe's face before the other Slytherin Chasers tried to swarm Max and take back the ball. The Gryffindor Captain feigned a Porskoff Ploy by pretending to drop the ball down to Roxie, but in actuality passed left to Rhett, who made a beeline for the goalposts and scored the first point of the match.

"Ten to zero for Gryffindor!" Molly announced as the crowd went wild. "They're really gelling as a team this year! If they keep up scoring at this rate, the match—and the House Cup—might be a sure win!"

And then, suddenly, there was a scream no one expected. Heads in the crowd were turning around in confusion while a murmur grew from the stands.

"What are you screaming for, kid," Molly said into the microphone, frowning at the third year Gryffindor who was pointing towards the castle, eyes wide with terror. "No one's fallen off their broom ye—"

The words died out in Molly's throat as her attention, and that of most of the school, was diverted to the castle. A dark hole gaped from a window near the top of one of the towers as a smudge was flying to the ground down the side with increasing speed. Even from this far away, Curly could clearly make out the person's bright, turquoise hair. And he wasn't the only one.

"TEDDY!" Victoire shrieked.

Most people stood to their feet, and the teachers were already trying to elbow their way through the students. Up in the air, green and red blurs whizzed by, and Curly sorely wished he had his broomstick right now. He tried to push his way past the slowly-moving, confused crowd, closely followed by Larry, Rose, Cat and Elise.

Near the base of the tower, Max was helping a wounded Teddy to his feet. It looked like he'd slowed his descent just enough to survive it, but the falling bits of glass had made a mark.

Victoire leapt from the crowd and embraced him with such force that it made them stagger. "Teddy! What happened to you, are you okay?"

"I'm fine," Teddy said reassuringly, one hand on Victoire's cheek. "My fault, really, I was just… clumsy."

Victoire grimaced, clearly not believing him, as her eyes kept scanning him for serious injuries. "Why weren't you at the game?"

"We'd all like an explanation for that, Mr Lupin," Professor McGonagall said, hand on her chest as she struggled to draw breath. She wasn't that young anymore. "And don't tell me you accidentally fell out of that tower," the Headmistress added sharply, and Curly almost snorted. That fish was at least three weeks old, and no one was buying it.

Teddy seemed committed to his lie. "I wasn't looking where I was going and Peeves tripped me."

"Tripped you?" McGonagall echoed sceptically. "You expect me to believe my Head Boy simply _stumbled_ out a window? And why were you inside the castle?"

"I'm doing a project for Professor Longbottom," Teddy said, eyes locking with the Herbology teacher. "I had a map I needed to follow."

A few of the other professors exchanged perplexed glances, but Longbottom kept Teddy's stare.

"A map of what?" Professor Clearwater asked finally.

"Of the local fauna," Longbottom said. "I'd asked Teddy to help me find a specific type of fungus that grows in dark attics. Did you manage to collect a specimen?"

Teddy shook his head, his expression way too grave to be about fungus. "It… I saw it, but I couldn't get it, Professor."

Curly was surprised McGonagall didn't immediately call out the very obvious wool Teddy and Longbottom were trying to pull over everyone's eyes, but Longbottom quickly clapped his hands once and said, "Alright, then you can come to my office and we'll discuss—"

"I think this discussion will happen in _my_ office, Neville," McGonagall cut in.

"Of course," Longbottom consented immediately. "We need someone to call for Hannah. Who—"

Curly grabbed Larry's wrist and held it up. "We'll do it!"

Larry shot him a startled look, but Longbottom was quick to nod.

"Alright, everyone," Clearwater turned towards the crowd of students. "This was just an accident, nothing to see here. Back to the quidditch pitch with you, there's still a game to be played!"

Victoire reluctantly let go of Teddy, and Max carefully passed him over to Longbottom before he and the rest of the Gryffindor team mounted their brooms and pushed off, closely followed by the Slytherins. Rose turned to look at her two friends hesitantly as the rest of the crowd slowly headed back.

"Go with Cat and Liz and cheer for Moe," Curly told her with his best reassuring smile. "We'll be back before you know it."

Rose nodded and let Cat wrap an arm around hers, already going on about the incident with Elise as she pulled her along. Curly stared after them. He'd prefer it if Rose was preoccupied with something else for the moment, as she didn't exactly approve of his rule-breaking. Still, he had to fight a grin at the thought of the lecture she'd give him if she knew why he'd volunteered. Rose was adorable when she was mad.

Larry, on the other hand, was watching Teddy and the teachers as they made their way through the big oak doors. He leaned in and said, "We're eavesdropping, right?"

"Oh yeah."

The two followed in after the teachers and pretended to head over to the Hospital Wing but instead ducked into a secret passageway and got to the Griffin Corridor before Teddy, McGonagall and Longbottom. After a few minutes of waiting with bated breath, the boys heard footsteps down the hall and flattened against the wall. Carefully peeking around the corner, they saw McGonagall, Teddy and Longbottom come to a stop.

"Ginger Newts," McGonagall said to the Griffin statue guarding her office, and it came to life, twisting in place to reveal the spiral staircase that led up to it.

Curly and Larry waited until they were out of view, then quickly moved out, following up the stairs and pressing an ear to the door.

"Start from the beginning," McGonagall's voice said on the other side, and Teddy sighed heavily.

"I thought they might try something today," the Head Boy started, suddenly sounding tired. "The school would be mostly empty for the match, which would make it the perfect time to look for whatever it is they're after. I've been keeping an eye on the Map all morning, so when I saw someone alone in the west tower, I went to check it out."

"Did the Map show you a name?" Longbottom interrupted.

"It did. Oliver Riggins. Does that ring any bells?"

Silence.

"Did you see this 'Oliver Riggins'?" McGonagall asked.

"Sort of," Teddy admitted, somewhat bitterly. "I saw his back. As soon as he knew I was there, he hit me with this stick thing, and then he went all Chuck Norris on me and nailed me with a solid roundhouse."

There was more silence on the other end. The teachers probably hadn't seen enough cheesy Chuck Norris flicks to get that obscure Muggle comparison.

"Chuck Norris?" Teddy said after a second. "Action star from—It doesn't matter, he kicked me in the stomach and sent me flying. All I saw of him were the goggles and the blue cloak he was wearing."

Curly and Larry exchanged a glance. A _man_ in a blue cloak.

"What was he trying to do?" McGonagall asked.

"I have no idea. He had both hands on the wall, feeling around, so if I had to guess I'd say he was looking for something, a passage or…or… But there's _nothing there_ , at least not according to the Map."

"The Map isn't perfect," Longbottom said. "There are places in Hogwarts that don't show up, even on there. The Chamber of Secrets, for example."

"Well, I don't know what he was doing or why he was there." Wood screeched against the floor. "But I need to find out."

"Sit down," McGonagall scolded him. "Madam Longbottom still needs to look you over—"

"I'm fine, Professor," Teddy objected. "Just got the wind knocked out of me."

"And you got peppered with glass," Longbottom noted.

"I need to go back to the tower," Teddy insisted. "Maybe he left some sort of trace."

There was a longer silence this time, and Curly wondered if there was a Western-style stare-down happening in there.

"Alright," McGonagall consented after a while. "If you feel well enough to argue, I suppose you're well enough to walk. At least now we have a name: Oliver Riggins."

"I'll tell Harry," Longbottom said, and footsteps started towards the door.

"I would suggest using the Floo as owls may not be—" McGonagall was saying, but Curly and Larry were already bolting down the staircase as quietly as they could.

When they got to the bottom, Curly looked left, then right, unsure of which way to run. Footsteps began to descend behind them when Larry grabbed his robes and dragged him to the right. They took the turn at the end of the hallway at top speed, almost splattering against the wall, then scrambled further down the corridor until Curly spotted a large tapestry which hid a passage to the second floor and pulled Larry behind it.

"What are you doing?" Larry hissed once they were under it, and that was when Curly realised this was the wrong tapestry.

"Someone's coming," Curly whispered back, trying not to choke from the abundance of dust.

The two teens held their breath as someone walked by. Then the footsteps stopped.

"... Seriously? A tapestry?"

To Curly's massive relief, it was Teddy.

"Er..." Larry threw him a distressed look behind the tapestry. Then he spoke with the deepest voice Curly had ever heard out of him. "Young man, I have been in this school longer than McGonagall. Nothing to see here, just an old, talking tapestry. Move on right along."

Curly had to slap a hand over his mouth to keep from laughing.

"Really?" Teddy said from the other end, more amused than anything. "Well then, sorry to have disturbed you, oh Great Tapestry. I'll just be on my way..."

And with one big flourish, the tapestry was flung aside, and Larry and Curly were caught in a whirlwind of dust. They coughed for a few minutes straight while Teddy just stood there, one eyebrow arched and a tiny grin playing on his face.

"Well, Talking Tapestry," he said, "when your lungs can function again, care to tell me why you were spying on me?"

"Um… well, we..." Curly stammered, wracking his brain to think of an excuse. "We were just passing by?"

"Bollocks," Teddy said. "You were eavesdropping. How much did you hear?" Another exchanged glance, and Teddy just sighed. "Alright, listen. What you heard… it needs to stay a secret, okay? We don't want to spread panic."

"A little too late for that," Larry noted dryly. "The whole school had a collective heart attack twenty minutes ago, and no one bought your 'I tripped' story."

"I think we should tell people," Curly cut in. "If that guy threw you out a window… What if had been a first year that walked in on him? They'd be a pancake at the bottom of the tower."

"We don't know that he'd have reacted like that to a first year," Teddy argued. "Or to someone other than me catching him, for that matter; this isn't the first time we've met. From what we know about this guy, he's a thief, not a murderer. Look, guys… if the parents get wind of this… Hogwarts might get shut down."

"It didn't shut down when a deadly Basilisk was roaming the halls," Larry returned. "Or when a presumed mass murderer was lurking around."

"That was different." Teddy scratched the back of his neck awkwardly. "In the past, we had Dumbledore, the greatest wizard that ever lived, as a Headmaster. I'm not saying Minnie isn't badass, but… she can't get away with as much."

"Then maybe we _should_ close down," Curly argued. "If students are in danger, then isn't it better to—"

"Send them home?" Teddy looked him straight in the eye and said, "Even Rose?" For a moment, Curly was left speechless. "For some kids," Teddy said slowly, "Hogwarts is an escape. No one's gotten hurt so far, but especially after the Second War some parents might be… overprotective."

Curly didn't reply. He didn't like this, but he also didn't like the idea of Rose alone back at Waltz Manor for who knows how long.

"I'll talk to McGonagall about enforcing a stricter curfew," Teddy added. "This Oliver guy seems to at least be trying to avoid running into people. If no one goes where they aren't supposed to be, maybe we can avoid any more incidents."

"I think," Larry said seriously, "that the prefects should be told. We're the ones patrolling the corridors at night, so it would make sense for us to be informed. At the very least so we could prepare ourselves."

Teddy thought about it for a second, but nodded and said, "Yeah, that's a good point. I'll schedule a meeting. In the meantime..."

"We'll keep quiet," Larry said. When Curly didn't reply, Larry turned to him and added, "Right?"

Curly was caught in a hurricane of indecision. Rose's parents were not above homeschool; if Hogwarts closed down, they might never let her come back. But if not saying anything put any other students in harm's way… He had to do the right thing. But what _was_ the right thing?

His thoughts chased each other around and around in an endless loop. He looked from Larry to Teddy, who were both staring at him expectantly. He had to make a choice.

Curly's hands balled into fists, and he finally relented. "Alright."

But he really, really didn't like this.


	10. Chapter 10

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 10**

It was the third snowfall of the year. As Rose, Larry, Moe and Curly walked together down the narrow path to Hogsmeade, the boys talked about Muggle technology. Moe had managed to stabilise his shielding spell, but it only allowed his devices to work on their own, without access to ' _the internet_ '. He speculated that it had to do with the lack of signal out here. Rose, of course, had no idea what they were on about, so they were trying to explain the 'internet' in a way she would understand. It was proving difficult.

"So it's kind of like a Protean Charm?" she said, mainly to Moe.

The Gryffindor frowned in thought. "Well, k-k-kinda, I mean, on a _g-g-ginormous_ scale, yeah, you could say…."

"But it's like if the charm connected the _whole world_ ," Curly added.

Rose turned to Larry. "Have you tried this 'internet' thing?"

He nodded. "Very useful. My mother loves it; we have a computer at home."

"See?" Curly said excitedly. "The Desrosiers have one; if you did we could all Skype over the summer!"

Rose stared at him in confusion. "What is 'skype'?"

"I could set it up," Moe volunteered immediately. "The computer. And I'll install Skype and t-t-teach you how to use it."

Rose looked away. "I don't think that would be happening… Dad is very traditional."

"But the benefits outweigh the losses!" Moe exclaimed passionately. "No one lives without a computer nowadays; we're not still in the eighteen huh-hundreds! Your dad's a shipping magnate, right? Having a computer at home would be good for b-business! He can keep track of the fuel prices and the high-risk areas and—"

"—and he has to move on with the times," Curly insisted. "The world is turning, and from what you've told me, he's a smart guy. He should be taking advantage of—"

"Okay!" Rose threw her hands up in surrender, trying not to laugh. "Okay, I'll talk to him, but no promises." Honestly, those two were like children.

Curly and Moe beamed, and Larry shook his head, the corner of his mouth twitching upwards.

The group arrived at the Main Street of Hogsmeade village and stopped.

"Right," Curly said, "where are we going first? I have to duck into the Magical Menagerie _;_ Mum's chameleon is sick."

Moe rummaged around in his robes and pulled out a rolled-up parchment. "And I've got to go to Dervish & Banges for some parts."

"We won't have enough time to go everywhere," Larry said. "Everything closes early on Sunday."

"Then we'll split up," Curly said simply. "I'll go get the medicine, Moe can look for his parts, and you and Rose go to Globus Mundi and get a brochure. We'll meet up in the Three Broomsticks afterwards and have a look together. That work for everybody?"

The three friends nodded, and they all split off.

"You really think this Muggle internet is a good idea?" Rose said as she and Larry strolled down the snow-covered street. "I mean… it sounds very complicated."

"You get used to it," Larry said reassuringly. "At first it's like an alien contraption, but it's just a device — once you know how to work with it, it all makes sense. Plus, we wouldn't have to wait for weeks just to hear from each other."

"Moe did perfect his instant messaging system," Rose argued. "We can just use that."

"It's not really the same," he said. "You'll know what I mean when you try it."

"Hmmm..." Rose stared unseeingly down the white path. Maybe she could speak to her father, but she truly didn't know how he would react. He was very keen on magical advancements, but a Muggle device… He would scoff at that. Still, she knew that Waltz Industries did have Muggle partners and worked with Muggle firms. Surely her dad would see the benefits of a computer? "Maybe Moe can invent a wizarding internet?" she mused. "I know Dad would be on board then."

Larry laughed. "You know, he probably can. You should suggest it to him."

It wasn't long before the two Ravenclaws reached their destination and stood underneath the blue sign of the Globus Mundi travel agency, which swayed gently with the breeze. Their logo was a yellow globe with two white wings, something Rose had thought from a distance to be a snitch. She and Larry entered the warm, cramped office and were immediately greeted by a pretty, young witch in light blue robes.

"Welcome to Globus Mundi, the biggest wizarding travel agency in the UK! How can I help you?"

"Good day," Larry said politely. "My friend and I were wondering if you provided any excursions to the London Museum of Magical History."

"Oh, of course," the witch said pleasantly and gestured to two empty chairs. "Please, have a seat." She herself sat on the other end of an oaken desk and spread a few folded brochures in front of them.

As they followed, Rose made a note of the various posters adorning the walls, depicting colourful, strange places that she had never seen before. On the bottom of each were all sorts of promotional adverts and flashy words like 'paradise' and 'one in a lifetime'. Larry didn't seem too impressed with them, which Rose thought might be because he'd _been_ to most of those places. His family travelled a lot.

"We have a few different packages available," the travel witch said. "There is the Group Package, which is for four people or more, the Family Package, which is two adults and up to five children, and we offer Couples tickets as well, if it's just going to be the two of you."

"Ah, we'd be looking at the Group Package, if possible," Larry said next to her, a blush creeping up his neck. Rose bit down on her bottom lip to suppress a chuckle.

"No problem," the witch said cheerfully and unfolded one of the brochures. "Up to six people for that one, comes with a two-way portkey arranged at one of these departure times, and a full health insurance for all of you in case of faulty transportation, including reattachment of limbs and other body parts. Full tour of the museum and a breakdown of the exhibit halls—this here is their most up-to-date map—and a guide will meet you at the entrance and take care of everything. Depending on the times you book, there is also the option to include a meal at a nearby London restaurant."

"Hmm..." Larry mused thoughtfully, and Rose eyed the map. The museum was quite extensive. "It all sounds pretty good, but we'd need to speak to our parents. Is it okay if we keep this?"

"Yes, of course," the witch replied, still beaming at them. "You can reserve the tickets via owl as well. Just make sure to book in advance, as it takes a few days if we have to post you the portkey."

"Thank you," Larry said, standing up and putting the brochure away in the folds of his robes. "That was very informative; we'll be sure to get in touch sometime in December. It was a pleasure."

Rose nodded and quietly followed him out the door. "Can I see?" she said as they started down the path to the Three Broomsticks.

"That was quicker than I thought," Larry said, handing her the brochure.

Rose threw him a quick smile before unfolding it. "What did you expect? Some undercover spy work? She _wanted_ to give us a brochure; it's her job."

Just as he was about to reply, a group of girls walked by and one of them called out, "Where are you off to, Swan Princess? A pureblood rally?"

Dread spread through Rose at the sound of that voice, but she continued forward, head determinately facing straight ahead as the other girls in the group snickered.

Larry, however, stopped in his tracks. "Excuse me?" he said, turning to face them.

Rose felt a rush of panic. "Let's just keep going," she said, pulling on his sleeve.

"Yeah, you wouldn't want to be late," Raven called again, her tone mocking and derisive. "The Dark Lord is waiting. Make sure to stock up on the soothing ointment, who knows how your porcelain skin will react to the tattoo."

Larry shot a bewildered look at the group of Ravenclaw girls, then looked back to Rose, whose eyes were glued to the snowy path. "Tattoo?" he said, rather confused.

The girls giggled.

"She means a Death Eater tattoo," Rose said quietly. "It was how Voldemort branded his followers in the Second Wizarding War."

Understanding dawned in his eyes just as Raven continued, "Don't worry, Desrosiers, I'm sure you'll get to see exactly how the Dark Mark looks soon enough. Just ask our princess here to show you hers."

"I don't know what tattoo parlors you ladies choose to spend your Hogsmeade weekends in, but Rose and I have no such plans," Larry said coldly.

"Ooooh," Raven cooed. " _Rose and I_. Does Fitzherbert know you're sneaking around with his best friend behind his back, Princess? Or are you two keeping the affair secret?" Taken by surprise by that statement, Larry whipped around to look at Rose again, but she was glaring at Raven now, curling her hands into fists to keep from reaching for her wand. Raven laughed. "Doesn't seem like Desrosiers is in on it. Tsk, tsk, tsk, naughty princess. That will just break Fitzherbert's fragile little heart."

"Don't listen to her," Rose said to Larry. "She's only trying to get a reaction out of us."

"Yes, Desrosiers," Raven added immediately. "Seeing as you're following her around like a puppy, you might as well act like one. It runs in the family, I hear. So be a _good dog_ and do as she says."

And that was when Rose's fingers found the wand inside her robes. "Don't call him that!" she snapped. "He doesn't have anything to do with whatever your problem with me is, so leave him out of it!"

"No, Rose, it's okay," Larry said. Rose turned to him and almost shuddered. Larry was grinning. It was the most unsettling, dangerous expression she'd ever seen on his face, and for a second, she had the ridiculous thought that he looked like a wolf smiling at his prey. "But if I may be allowed a small correction, I have a _wolf_ ancestry. And you know what Muggles say about wolves, don't you, Raven? The Wolf is the strength of the Pack. So if you're about to bully Rose, _do not_ leave me out of it. Just be very careful about what you're going to say next."

Raven raised one sceptical eyebrow and crossed her arms, a mocking smirk pulling at the corner of her mouth. "Really, French boy? Is that supposed to scare me? What are you going to do, waive a _baguette_ as us?"

Larry's grin grew slightly. "Well, since you asked so nicely..."

Faster than a flash of lightning, his wand was out and aimed at the Ravenclaw girls. A second later, a stump appeared at Raven's feet and long, bramble-like vines flew out of the top and whipped through the air, encircling Raven and her friends. Scream echoed in the cold air as they were all lifted high above the ground and the thorns bit into their skin.

"Larry!" Rose pulled on his sleeve, her voice pleading and urgent. "Larry, put them down! We're in the middle of the street!"

"She's the bitchy girl from the bathroom, isn't she," Larry said calmly as Raven and the other girls struggled against the prickly vines. "How long has she been bullying you?" Their curses suddenly became inaudible as Larry muted them with a flick of his wrist.

Rose's eyes moved frantically between him and Raven. "Larry, that doesn't matter, please put them down!"

"And then what?" he said, staring unwaveringly at the struggling girls. "She continues to harass you?"

"And what does dangling her from a Snargaluff accomplish? There has to be another way; please, _please_ put her down."

He finally turned to look at her, but she kept his stare, not backing down. Then, evidently disgruntled, Larry vanished the plant, and the girls dropped down into the show, minor scratches adorning their arms and neck.

"You pureblood bitch," Raven said, sputtering snow and trying to pick herself up. "You think that sicking your boy toy on us will make me kneel down to you like the rest of the school?"

"I didn't 'sick' him on you," Rose protested. "You insulted him and he retaliated."

"Name your price," Larry said to them. "What will it take for you to stop picking on Rose?"

Raven finally managed to stand up, and her wand immediately whipped out of her robes, pointed at them. "You purebloods…. You're all the same. You think that because mummy and daddy are loaded you can _buy_ the rest of us. We. Aren't. Beneath you."

"I never said that you were," Larry replied, though is wand remained fixed on her as well. "But that doesn't mean that you can treat Rose like that. What are you trying to prove?"

Instead of answering, Raven snarled and her wand hand twitched. Larry tensed, ready for a duel, but Rose leapt between them, hands spread wide.

"Stop, stop! It doesn't have to be like this!" She turned to Raven. "You want the world to know you're not beneath us, fine. Pick a challenge. We'll make it a competition, and whoever wins gets bragging rights."

"And if we win," Larry added, "you'll leave Rose alone."

Raven smirked. "And if I win, you'll fetch me a newspaper every morning. In your mouth."

Rose frowned. "That's not—"

"Deal," Larry said firmly.

Rose turned to glare at him, but Raven was already agreeing. "Fine. Seems fair to me." Then she put the wand away and beckoned for them to follow. "I have just the thing. Come on."

Her friends exchanged glances but trailed behind her. Larry and Rose did too, with his own wand to the depths of his robes.

"Larry, what were you thinking," Rose whispered to him as they walked. "This is a really stupid bet. What if we lose?"

"Then we lose," he said with a shrug. "I wasn't about to stand there and watch her insult you. Be honest with me, Rose. How long?"

She looked away. "A while. It started out small. Little whispers as I walked by, followed by giggling. A few glares here and there. A jab or two. Then, last year, I caught her outside after hours and gave her detention. She, erm… didn't take it well."

Larry nodded. "She sees it as you exerting power."

"Well, I was, in a way," Rose admitted. "My family fully expected me to be a prefect. No one was surprised when I got the badge. So I wanted… I wanted to rise to their expectations. Stick to the rules. That was before you and Curly and Moe. Before I… loosened up a little. I saw it as my duty to bust all the rulebreakers, regardless of the severity of the crime. Today I probably wouldn't have gone as far as detention. Back then... " Rose sighed. "I just wanted to do a good job."

"I see..." he said, eyeing her. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. "Look, Rose, it wasn't your fault. Raven broke the rules, so she got punished. That doesn't give her the right to come after you, personally."

"It never mattered if she did, because she, unlike you, had never drawn her wand," Rose reasoned, throwing him a reprimanding look. "Why did you have to go and do that? Now you've made her blacklist."

In response, Larry simply smirked. "Why did you have to go and turn Husniya's head into a pumpkin?"

Caught off guard, Rose was stunned into silence. "That—that's not really the same," she stammered, going pink with embarrassment.

No sooner had she said this than the Ravenclaw girls came to a stop.

"Over there," Raven said, pointing to an oddly-shaped snow mound. "Inside there's a bunch of eggs. Whoever can sprint in and return with one faster wins."

Rose blanched.

"And what exactly laid these eggs?" Larry asked.

Raven smirked. "A Blast-Ended Skrewt."

Rose felt dizzy. She had never actually seen one in person, but there were… legends. Just as she shook her head, however, Larry raised his proudly.

"Just one egg?"

"Larry!" Rose grabbed onto his sleeve. "You're not really going through with this, are you? If there really is a Blast-Ended Skrewt inside, this would be as good as suicide!"

Raven rolled her eyes. "I'm planning on going in too, Princess. The adult creatures are hibernating. It's winter."

"Isn't this challenge a little too… Gryffindor?" Rose said pleadingly.

Raven huffed derisively. "What did you think it was gonna be? Word searches?"

Rose looked back to Larry. Was it too late to say yes?

"It's fine, Rose," he said, though his face was pale. "I can do this."

"You aren't going in there," she said firmly. Her fingers once again slipped into her robes, but into a different pocket this time, wrapping around a warm glass vial. "If anyone is being challenged here, it's me."

Larry's surprise was accompanied by the snickers of the other girls.

"Puh- _lease_ ," Raven said mockingly. "You'll pass out before you've gotten within two feet."

Rose's eyebrows locked in a frown. "The problem you have is with me, isn't it? I'm the one you want to humiliate."

"But I'm the one that made the bet," Larry cut in. "I should be the one to do it."

"I don't give a rat's ass which one of you does it," Raven snapped. "Just hurry it up!"

Rose looked Larry straight in the eye. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, I really do, but I can't always rely on you and the others to look after me. I need to stand on my own two feet."

"And I respect that," Larry said hastily, "but does it have to be inside a Skrewt lair?"

She tried to suppress a smile. "In this case, yes. It means a lot that you stood up for me out there on the street. But _I_ have to finish this; if I don't she'll never let me forget that I let _you_ fight my battles for me."

There was another minute of a staring contest, but at the end Larry simply sighed. He clearly didn't like this, but he knew where she was coming from. "Alright. I understand."

Rose smiled at him briefly before turning to face the dark hole of the lair.

"Okay," Raven said, handing her coat over to one of her friends. "Let's do this."

Quickly reaching into her pocket, Rose downed the turquoise potion and let the empty vial slip from her hand and into the snow.

Raven stood next to her. "The opening is too narrow for us to have a race, so we'll be going in one at a time. We'll decide who goes first with Rock, Paper, Scissors."

Rose blinked at her. "With—?"

"I'll do it," Larry's voice came from behind them, and he hastily made his way over.

Raven looked between the two of them, then erupted in laughter. "She doesn't even know what it is, does she?"

Larry pulled that scary grin again. "And you don't know how to solve the Magical Symbols game in the _Daily Prophet_ ," he bit back. Then he raised his fist, and in one single moment of panic, Rose thought Rock, Paper, Scissors was some sort of Muggle dueling.

And it… might have been? Rose found the whole thing very confusing. Raven and Larry shook their closed fists at each other a few times, making strange gestures with their fingers. After a few turns they just kind of stopped, and Larry told her she got to go in first. Rose decided that questions of this strange ritual can wait, and took a running position. Thoughts chased each other in her head, about how running in robes would be difficult, about the snow and how it would slow her down further, and about how she was very much not a runner. Thankfully, the courage potion was doing its job, and these thoughts remained detached and distant, like something that was happening to a character in a book and not to her.

One of Raven's friends conjured a checkered flag from the end of her wand and held it high into the air. Rose's eyes remained fixed on it, and she somehow felt... confident.

Suddenly, the flag was down. Her legs propelled her forward and she ran, under the mocking sounds of the Ravenclaw girls and Larry's encouraging cheers.

The entrance of the Skrewt's lair was big, big enough that she didn't even have to duck, and somewhere in the back of her mind the logical part of her screamed 'danger'. The potion, however, muffled it and whispered, 'keep going'.

" _Lumos_ ," Rose said, igniting the tip of her wand. The lair was a spacious cave, covered in... animal bones. Or at least she _hoped_ those were animals bones. Once again, Rose felt detached from the events around her, and she was relatively sure that she would have fainted if she really were standing in a creepy cave full of bones without some sort of boost. But the potion would not have that. It kept pushing her forward, to the far end, where the Skrewt had built its nest. A dozen or so eggs the size of Quaffles sat in the middle of a rancid pile of rags, twigs, grass, and whatever else the creature had been able to salvage. As Rose approached, careful not to make any unnecessary sounds, something in the nest shifted. And that was when she discovered something very important.

Blast-Ended Skrewts do not hibernate during winter.


	11. Chapter 11

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 11**

Larry cheered for Rose when she started running, although he really didn't like the situation. Yes, hibernating animals were almost impossible to rouse, but it still should have been him that went in. Even if the thought was making him slightly nauseous. Okay, very nauseous.

As he waited outside the lair, rather impatiently, a glint in the snow caught his attention. He bent down to retrieve the glass vial from the ground and frowned in thought, turning it over in his hand. It was still warm, suggesting that whatever had been inside it had either been brewed recently or had been kept in a pocket. In either case, this had been dropped in the last few minutes to have retained this much heat. He turned around, looking for tracks in the snow, but the only ones he saw were his and the girls'. His eyes wandered down to the snow again, realising something. This exact spot was where Rose was standing a minute ago.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted when the Blast-Ended Skrewt mount exploded violently.

Before Larry could even process what was happening, he spotted Rose under the dome of a shield charm. Out of the rubble emerged roughly a dozen small, white, crawling creatures, each about the size of a lobster. And after them... a fully grown Blast-Ended Skrewt. Larry had never seen anything like it. About ten feet long, with a bone-chilling stinger curled over it's back, the creature appeared to be some sort of cross between a scorpion and an elongated crab. Except that it could shoot fire.

The babies quickly advanced in their direction, making the Ravenclaw girls shriek and run for their lives. Larry's eyes, however, were glued to Rose and her struggle with the big one, whose armoured hide seemed impenetrable to spells. Larry sprinted forward while the baby skrewts chased his classmates in the opposite direction, and as soon as he was close enough to Rose his wand whipped through the air, conjuring a much bigger Snargaluff stump than before, one with a diameter of roughly four feet. Once again its vines surged up and encircled the largest threat, not quite managing to lift it, but at least it bound it in place.

"I think it's safe to say that neither of us won that challenge. Time to go now," Larry said urgently, pulling Rose away. She did not resist, and two took off in a run towards the village.

Back in Hogsmeade, people were shooting spells are the pale white baby skrewts, which seemed to have made their way onto the streets, and, in some cases, into people's houses. Larry and Rose kept on running and didn't stop until they were at the door of the Three Broomsticks Inn.

"What's all this?" the owner of the place, Madam Rosmerta, said, stepping outside and looking around for the source of the commotion.

Larry and Rose exchanged a glance and used the opportunity to quickly slip inside and find an unoccupied table.

"Do you think… Should we tell someone?" Rose asked breathlessly as the pub patrons craned their necks and peeked out the windows.

"I'm sure it'll be okay," Larry answered hastily. "We took care of the big one, and this is an all-wizarding village, so we don't have to worry about Muggles."

"If you say so..." Rose said.

"Curly and Moe aren't here yet," Larry said after another sweeping look of the pub. "I'll go get us some drinks while we wait. What would you like?"

Rose reached into her robes and handed him a few sickles. "Erm, just a Gillywater, thank you."

Larry smiled. "Coming right up." He made his way to the bar, where Madam Rosmerta had returned after her short scouting of the street. "One Gillywater and a Butterbeer, please," he said.

At that moment the door of the pub opened again, and the Ravenclaw girls walked in, their hair messy from the wind and the ends of their robes singed from skrewt fire. Almost immediately, Raven spotted him and came his way.

"Well, since your friend decided to cheat, I guess no one won our bet," she said, leaning an elbow against the counter.

"That doesn't mean I won't dangle you from a Snargaluff again if you continue to bully her," Larry said casually. "Or from something worse."

Raven's eyes narrowed. "You got lucky," she growled.

"I think," he said, his mouth stretching into a threatening grin, "that you got lucky Rose talked me into letting you go. But by all means, let us test that luck again."

They glared at each other until Madam Rosmerta put his order in front of him. Larry's hands curled around the glasses.

"If you'll excuse me," he said, turning around. "I have somewhere to be."

"Yes, don't let us interrupt your _date_. Go fetch her some drinks like a _good dog_ ," Raven threw after him mockingly.

Larry stopped in his tracks. Turned. Then he walked back to the bar, left his Butterbeer on the counter and rummaged in his pocket. Handing Raven a handful of silver coins, he said, "Here. Go buy yourself some better insults."

Then he left her there, too stumped to come back with a witty remark, and made his way back to Rose.

Worry was written all over her face, but she somehow managed to wait for him to sit down before bombarding him with questions. "Was that Raven? What did she tell you? What did you tell her? Should I have my wand ready?"

Larry huffed a laugh at that last one. "It's fine, Rose. I'm not an easy target."

Rose frowned at that. "So she _did_ say something to you. See, we should have just kept on walking! Now she'll get at you too, and it's all my fault," she finished miserably.

"It isn't your fault," Larry said calmly. "I chose to get involved." When she still seemed unconvinced, he added, "Remember what I told Raven about wolves?"

Rose stared at him blankly. "Erm… A wolf is part of a pack?"

"The Wolf is the strength of the Pack," he corrected her gently. "It's from a famous Muggle book, though I was paraphrasing a little. Do you want to know how the rest of it goes?" She nodded. " _Now this is the Law of the Jungle and it runneth forward and back — For the strength of the Pack is the Wolf, and the strength of the Wolf is the Pack_."

She smiled. "I like that. What's the name of the book?"

" _The Jungle Book_ ," he replied. "It's about a boy that grows up in the jungle and is raised by animals. But more to the point… I'm not a wolf, that is true. But I do consider my friends my 'pack' of sorts, and you are a part of that." Larry stared at his bottle thoughtfully, running his thumb over the label. "I'm only alive because of you," he added quietly. "And because of Curly and Moe. And I mean that in both the literal and the figurative sense; I might not have even made it to the age of twelve without friends."

Rose chuckled softly. "Are you referring to that bear incident?"

He couldn't help a small smile. " _Oui_. That, and the Acromantula encounter last year. I haven't forgotten."

"Me neither..." Rose looked away. "That was my fault too."

"Rose, you need to stop blaming yourself for everything," he said earnestly, trying to catch her eye again. "You didn't make me go into the Forbidden Forest any more than Curly made me go after the bear."

Rose turned to face him, but didn't say anything. After a short silence, she said, "Why _did_ you go after the bear?" The question surprised him, and it must have shown, because she added, "I mean, Moe did mention it happening at a summer camp, and Curly said something about a cage, but I don't really know any details."

"Ah, so no one has told you the full story?" He smiled at her, eyes twinkling with amusement. "It's a good one."

"We have time," Rose said hopefully.

Larry tried to pull up the memory from the carefully organised drawers in his mind. "It all started," he began, "for me, at least, when I turned eleven. I got accepted into _L'Académie de Magie Beauxbâtons_ , a prestigious magical academy in France. But my mother…" Larry smiled to himself. "Well, she thought there was a better place for me to go. She had visited Hogwarts about twenty years previously, as part of the Triwizard Tournament, and after witnessing their curriculum and the castle grounds _—_ not to mention the library _—_ became completely enamoured by it. She is also to this day a bit of a Harry Potter fan." Rose smiled over her Gillywater. "In any case, she was convinced Hogwarts was the place I needed to go to _—_ a school for heroes. But, when they accepted me, it dawned on my parents that I might need to practice my English before they stick me in a castle full of foreigners. To that effect, they signed me up for a wizarding summer camp here in the UK."

"It seems to have helped," Rose chimed in. "Your English is excellent."

Larry couldn't help a smug grin. " _Merci_. It was rather disorienting in the beginning. I had no idea what to do, never having been in this situation before, and when the camp counsellors divided us into three and assigned us a cabin, I was unsure how to navigate these untested waters. I had never shared a room with anyone before, let alone two strangers." He smiled again, and it was a full, brimming-with-happiness smile. "One had so much energy, and the other was just the opposite. Then there was me: thinking with my head instead of my heart. It never crossed my mind back then that we'd end up being best friends."

Rose actually, audibly, gasped. "That was when the three of you met?"

"Indeed it was," Larry said, still beaming. He was… a little different back then. His looser grasp on the language certainly didn't help his introverted tendencies to ignore everyone and just stick to his books. It took a while for them to wear him down, but once they did… It changed him. "During our time at camp, we overheard that there was a bear, in a cage _—_ some sort of attraction-type gambit _—_ not too far," he continued. "Curly convinced me and Moe to go with him to free the bear. It would be wrong of us to leave it, Curly said, and I believed that the danger was worth the risk. So we snuck out, we opened the cage... and it _charged_." Rose's face quickly morphed from smiling to horrified. "We ran, but the bear was just too big. We climbed up into trees, but it still wouldn't leave us alone, and it was close to knocking Moe down. Curly yelled, 'I wish the bear would leave like it was supposed to!' and Moe's underage magic kicked in. The bear wandered off, but Moe fell from his tree, and he was hurt. You can imagine who sprung into action, can't you? Curly healed him, and we went back to the camp, dirty, and tired, but alive and... well, friends. We've been close ever since."

Rose's expression was unreadable. "A bear," she deadpanned. "You freed a _bear_?! If it was that close to your camp, didn't it occur to any of you that it might wander in that direction and hurt someone? Oh, honestly..." She shook her head. "Why is it that when something happens, it's _always_ you three?"

"I've been asking myself the same thing since then," Larry replied, laughing. "In our defence, we were eleven." Not that they had changed all that much in five years. Curly was still having wildly dangerous ideas. Moe and Larry were still being talked into wildly dangerous ideas. "But Moe and Curly taught me to open up more, to give other people a chance. I wouldn't be who I am today without them. And I certainly wouldn't have made it through my school career in one piece _—_ "

"You are, of course, neglecting to mention that it's them that get you _into_ these career-threatening situations," Rose added dryly and took a sip from her drink. "And you all rely on Curly's healing too much. It's making you all bolder than you ought to be."

"That may be true," he returned, "but they always get me out in one piece. Or if it's not them… it's you."

"One time, Larry," she said quietly.

"It wasn't just one time," he insisted. "I haven't known you as long as I've known Moe and Curly, but you're important to me, just like they are. And you're my friend in a way that… I've never had before. If Raven thinks she can push you around, especially when I'm present, she is sorely mistaken."

Rose stared back at him, and he couldn't tell if she was surprised to hear this _—_ although to him the above sentiment had always been crystal clear _—_ or if she just didn't know what to say.

Her eyes wandered back to the glass in her hands, and she said, very quietly, "I don't want you making enemies on my behalf."

Larry was close to sighing in frustration. He'd explained himself as best he could, but she still didn't seem to get it. "Rose, it's not _—_ "

"Hi, guys," Curly's voice came from behind as he and Moe joined them on the table. "Have you seen those white things crawling everywhere? I passed by an old man chasing them on a broom." He snickered, putting down the two Butterbeers he'd been carrying.

The two Ravenclaws exchanged a glance.

Moe's eyes moved from Rose to Larry. "Do you two know something we don't?"

Larry threw a look around the pub, but no one seemed to be paying attention. Quietly, he recounted the events of the last hour. When he got to the bet part of the story, Curly's jaw went slack, and Moe's eyes bore into Rose.

"You-you got b-bullied?" the Gryffindor asked, face set in a firm frown.

Rose kept staring at her lap.

"Rose..." Curly said softly and reached for her, which caused her to shoot up like a bullet.

"I need to go to the bathroom," she said quickly and disappeared between the tables.

"She never said..." Moe drawled thoughtfully, staring after her. "Not even a p-peep."

Curly sighed. "I keep telling her _—_ she doesn't always have do things alone. Why won't she just _let us help_?"

"I wish I knew..." Larry drawled. Girls were a confusing mystery, and though he felt like he understood Rose better than most others, in some ways she was still an enigma. Especially as of late. "Hey, guys," he said, his voice thoughtful and serious. "Does Rose seem a little... _off_ to you recently?"

"Off?" Curly echoed.

"You know..." Larry said, struggling to find the right word. "A little... a little... _téméraire_?" The other two stared at him questioningly, and he searched his brain for the English equivalent. "Um... ah… Reckless! I mean reckless."

Moe and Curly exchanged a look.

"Reckless how?" Curly said. The corner of his mouth twitched as he added, "Did she bring only one backup quill for Transfiguration class?"

"No, but she..." Larry sighed. He had promised Rose not to tell, but this was really getting out of control. With a silent apology to her, he caved in and told his friends about what really happened that night in the Trophy Room. When he finished, Curly' face was white as a sheet.

"And she just... she just _jumped_?" he asked, clearly in some state of shock.

Larry nodded.

Moe had a deep frown etched across his face, arms folded tightly. "I'm making her an ankle weight. When she gets c-close to a window or any other pre-pre-precarious place, it will root her foot to the floor."

"And that's exactly why she asked me not to tell you," Larry said. "But it wasn't just then. Today by the Skrewt lair, right before she blew it up... I found an empty vial. It was right where Rose was standing. I think she might be... taking something."

Moe and Curly exchanged another glance, this time a worried one.

"Are you sure?" Curly asked.

"Well... no," Larry admitted. "But she _has_ been acting strange."

"G-girls are always strange," Moe muttered.

"Let's not jump to conclusions," Curly added. "Once is an instance, twice is a coincidence. If today can even count as twice. What if an explosion was the best way for her to get away?"

"Even if it was," Larry argued, "her mind wouldn't have jumped straight there. Rose would have looked for a different solution."

Curly didn't try to rebut this, and Moe's frown only deepened. At that moment Raven and her friends stood up to leave. Larry's eyes locked with hers, and she leered at him, mouthing the words ' _Woof, woof_ ', which sent the others into a fit of giggles.

Moe and Curly followed Larry's gaze.

"Is that them?" Curly whispered.

Larry nodded briefly, and Moe suddenly surged to his feet.

"Whoa, there," Curly said, pulling him back into the chair. "Down, boy. Down!"

"We ca-can't just let it g-go," Moe said, his face wearing one of its scariest scowls. "They'll k-keep going after her."

"No, they won't," Curly said calmly, sneaking another look at the girls as they left the pub. "I recognise her _—_ that's Alister's girlfriend. I'll talk to him about bringing her around."

"Your cousin Alister? The Slytherin?" Larry said, still glaring at the group, though he did retain his calm.

Curly nodded.

Moe threw him a doubtful look. "You think that will w-work?"

"We'll see," Curly said with a shrug. "It's Plan A in either case. We need to try some negotiation before we bring out the big guns," he added, poking Moe's biceps, and Larry failed to muffle a snort.

* * *

-O-

When she entered the bathroom of the Three Broomsticks, Rose thought she would find it unoccupied.

She was wrong.

Standing there in all her high-heeled glory, washing her hands in the sink, was... Husniya. Rose was frozen in place. The Slytherin girl slowly turned her head to look at her, twisting the tap until the water stopped running. Then her thin mouth curved into a smirk.

"Well if it isn't our very own princess," she said, shaking the water from her hands. Rose had to try very hard not to flinch. "Excellent. You just saved me having to hunt you down."

There was something about the way she said those last words, something intrinsically sinister. Rose tied to keep her cool, and luckily there was still enough of the courage potion in her system to allow her to remain calm _—_ or as calm as anyone could be in the presence of Husniya DeVille.

"Can I help you with anything?" she said, and thankfully her voice didn't shake.

Husniya drew closer. Her cold eyes looked her up and down. "Maybe. You can start with finishing what you started in the Alchemy classroom. Take out your wand, Princess. Let's see how good you are when you're not cheating."

"I didn't cheat," Rose replied, fighting the chill crawling up her spine. "You threatened my friend, and I warned you what would happen if you touched him."

Husniya's smirk turned mocking. "Aw. You leaned one hex and you think you're battle ready now. That's cute." The tip of her wand, which had somehow ended up in her hand, gently slid across Rose's arm as the girl circled her. "See, and they say Slytherins always curse first. Tsk, tsk, tsk. No one ever accuses the Ravenclaw of foul play, even when she draws first blood." Husniya continued to slowly circle around Rose as she spoke, the wand moving from her arm, to her back, and then the opposite shoulder.

Rose felt increasingly uncomfortable. "I didn't draw blood," she breathed.

"Oh, but you did," Husniya whispered. "You see, you fired the first shot, even though I hadn't actually done anything to your precious Gryffindor. You assumed the mean, scary Slytherin girl would sink her fangs into him, but the truth is, Princess, that you don't know shit about me." Now Husniya was standing in front of her again, wand gently pressing right in the middle of Rose's chest. "But you will."

A silent spell sank in Rose's chest, immobilising her completely. With only a little bit of pressure to her wand, she tipped Rose's balance, making her stiff body fall backwards and hit the ground, hard. Rose felt the air leave her lungs with a low whizz. Husniya's tall, slim silhouette loomed over her, wand still pointed down. A stylish black heel lifted up and slammed against Rose's abdomen, stopping her breath once again.

"You see, I don't really appreciate the makeover you gave me in Croft's class," Husniya said quietly, no longer smiling. "Orange isn't my colour."

The pain came suddenly and without any warning. Every last fiber of her being was on fire; every bone, every muscle cried out in agony, and still, no sound left her lips. The pain was so intense, so all-consuming, that she no longer knew where she was or what was happening, only that it felt as if white-hot blades were piercing every inch of her skin. If she could have screamed, she would have. If she could have begged, she would have. Although the immobilising spell kept her body stiff as a board, it didn't stop the tears welling up in her eyes, tears which she couldn't even blink away.

And then, just as suddenly as it had come, the torture stopped.

"You really, _really_ shouldn't assume things about other people," Husniya said softly from above. "You never know when someone might actually be who you think they are. It's a little..." The heel twisted painfully. "Dangerous."

Rose felt her blood run cold.

"Oh don't worry, I won't finish you here," Husniya said, withdrawing her wand. "Revenge is best served unexpected, Princess. And I want to make sure I enjoy it."

Elegantly flipping her long, black hair behind a bony shoulder, Husniya walked by Rose and exited the bathroom.

Rose just laid there, on the cold bathroom floor, until the curse wore off and she was once again able to move. First her fingers, then her hands; she managed to roll over and pick herself up. Still weak in the knees, Rose made her way to the sink and gripped it tightly with shaking hands. She had never been tortured before. Never knew what it was like to feel the burn of Dark Magic coursing through her body. And the experience was terrifying.

"Calm," she whispered at her reflection in the cracked mirror. "Be calm."

Slow, deep breaths. Composure. Her forehead leaned against the cool surface of the mirror, and she focused on the sounds beyond the door. Meaningless chatter, clinking of glasses, the footsteps of random strangers punctuated by the occasional burst of laughter.

Rose kept breathing. In and out, slow and steady. When she opened her eyes, she was no longer trembling. It's over, she told herself. It doesn't hurt anymore.

She reached up and fixed her hair, then wiped what was left of those tears. With still-shaking fingers, Rose reached into her pocket and retrieved a second vial of the turquoise potion. She stared blankly at it, then looked to her reflection in the mirror. A second dose in under an hour _—_ not a smart choice. But her friends were out there. If she could not compose herself they would know, and they would ask, and she just… couldn't tell them.

In one swift motion she downed the whole thing and just stood there, waiting for the effects to kick in. Her heart rate slowed to a normal pace, and the anxiety, the fear, the humiliation, it all simply subsided. Rose took a deep breath to test this newfound calm. After another close look in the mirror to make sure her eyes were no longer red, she straightened her clothes and smoothed her expression.

Conducting herself with dignity and poise, Rose left the bathroom and rejoined her friends. No one noticed a thing.


	12. Chapter 12

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 12**

Larry ran, chasing the floating apple that bobbed and swerved around other people's legs inside the enclosure. A bite appeared on its red surface, and Larry cursed under his breath. In one last-ditch effort to capture it, he leapt forward, trying to tackle it to the ground. He hit the grass with a hard _oomph_ , but the apple slipped away as a tongue appeared above it in a mocking gesture. Larry cursed again, slamming his fist on the ground.

His other classmates were running about around like headless flies, trying to lure things they could not see close enough to put a collar on them. Professor Hagrid calmly observed from the other side of the fence, shouting encouragements here and there. Not that it helped. Larry threw a quick look at the far end of the enclosure, where Curly was sitting comfortably under a tree, whittling. A collar floated beside him as a small pile of apples disappeared bite by bite.

Suddenly, there was a yelp behind Larry, and someone tripped in his body, joining him on the grass. Larry picked himself up on his elbows to get a better look at the person, and sure enough, it was Moe.

The Gryffindor spat some grass that had somehow gotten in his mouth and made a face. His eyes wandered over to Curly. "You know, he's my best friend and all," Moe said, getting into a sitting position. "But sometimes I wanna strangle him."

Larry grunted, sitting up as well. "I know that feeling," he said, patting Moe's shoulder. Then he stood and brushed the grass and dirt from his robes. "I think I need a break." Moe grunted in agreement, and the two made their way back to Curly's tree, nearly collapsing at its base.

"How did it go?" Curly said, barely looking up from his work. "Need more apples?"

Larry scoffed. "How about some actual help?"

"I did help," Curly said, snickering. "I told you how to catch them. Did you do what I said?"

"'Do something unpredictable' is not exactly specific instructions," Moe growled.

Curly laughed. "Well, if I gave you specific instructions, that wouldn't exactly be unpredictable, would it? Demiguises have precognitive sight; they'll be able to see anything I tell you to do before you even do it."

With a sigh of exhaustion, Larry leaned back against the tree trunk and closed his eyes. "I give up. That Demiguise can starve for all I care."

Moe made a huff of agreement from the other side. "Those monkey things are fast."

Curly chuckled. "They can come eat from Pancake's pile." He put his pocket knife away to pet the invisible creature next to him, which made a sound akin to a sigh.

"You named it?" Larry said, opening one eye to throw his friend a look.

"You named it _Pancake_?" Moe added, snorting.

Curly laughed, scratching Pancake somewhere around the ears.

"Alright, that'd be enough fer today," Hagrid shouted over the bumbling students. "Looks like most of you didn' manage ter catch yer Demiguise; we'll continue this exercise next time!"

The class slowly trickled out of the enclosure, grumbling and rubbing sore spots on their bodies. Larry, Moe and Curly stood up as well, following the others to the door, which looked very out of place in the middle of a field with no wall to support it. It was so surreal to leave a warm, sunny meadow and suddenly be back in the cold, winery castle. Luckily, the Great Hall was only a minute away.

Moe shivered, wrapping his Gryffindor scarf around his neck. "I'm just g-glad Professor Hagrid de-de-decided to have us hunt them in the classroom."

Curly laughed. "Hunting Demiguises in the snow is too easy!"

His two friends glared at him, sending him into even bigger peals of laughter.

As they entered the Great Hall, the boys stopped for a moment at the entrance to find Rose. Soon, Moe tugged Larry's sleeve and pointed to the Ravenclaw table, where Rose was eating lunch, a book propped up on the sugar bowl. They made their way over and sat down.

"How was Care for Magical Creatures?" she asked conversationally, putting the book away.

"A nightmare," Moe huffed, making Curly laugh again.

"Oh?" Rose looked to Larry. "Did you study something dangerous?"

"Only dangerous to my pride," Larry replied.

"Don't listen to them," Curly said, in-between chuckles. "We were catching Demiguises, and, well… Larry and Moe aren't exactly beast tamers."

Larry felt Moe kick Curly under the table.

Rose smiled at them encouragingly. "I'm sure they'll get there. That's what school is for — to learn. No one is born a master of anything."

Moe huffed again. "Tell that to Mr I-spent-the-whole-period-whittling over there. He caught his in f-five m-m-minutes."

Curly shrugged, grinning. "Hey, I can't help it if I'm awesome. But that reminds me..." He reached into his school bag and held up a wooden swan. "I made this for you."

Rose stared at the carving, as if afraid it would peck her. Hesitantly, she took it and gave him a courteous smile. "Thank you," she said stiffly.

Curly's face fell. "You don't like it."

The mask of contained politeness dropped. "No! I mean, yes!" Rose protested immediately. "I mean...It is a very well-made gift. I appreciate the thought."

"Sorry," Curly said, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly. "I just thought… Swans are the symbols of your House, and they're pretty, so..."

"No, Curly, I..." She trailed off desperately, eyes wandering down to her lap, and sighed. "Swans are pretty. I'm just not fond of them. They… unnerve me."

The boys stared at her in silence, surprised by this revelation. Then Larry elbowed Curly in the ribs. "Well? Are you a wizard or what? Transfigure it into something else."

Curly's face lit up again. "Yeah! I can totally do that! What would you like, Rose?"

Rose's eyes travelled down to the carving in her hands. After a moment of consideration, the faintest of smiles bloomed on her face. "A sun," she said.

The three boys exchanged a befuddled glance.

"A s-sun?" Moe echoed.

"Well, yes," Rose said, her smile growing. "If it's a gift from Curly, it should remind me of him, right? So it needs to be something warm and bright." For a second, Curly just stared at her. Rose's smile faded. "Is a sun not okay?"

"No, no, no!" he said quickly, waving his hands in front of him. "A sun is very much okay! I can do that."

Larry and Moe exchanged a look.

Curly took the carving back, tapping it with his wand and muttering a spell under his breath. The wood twisted in his palm, pooling into a smooth, oval shape, out of which sprouted several curly sun rays. When he was done, Curly grinned proudly and, as a final touch, he tapped it again and said, " _Colovaria_." The wooden sun turned yellow.

When he held it up to Rose, she smiled radiantly and took it without hesitation. "Oh, Curly, I love it! Thank you!"

Curly beamed too. "Glad you like it."

Larry and Moe exchanged another look, but neither said anything. The rest of lunch went on as normal. Curly told stupid jokes and creature-related adventure anecdotes, and Rose laughed. Larry wondered why he hadn't noticed how much she laughs around Curly. Or how hard he tries not to swear in front of her. Moe threw in the odd comment, until something sparked an idea in his head and he pulled out a piece of parchment, starting to sketch some invention idea. Larry only occasionally joined in the conversation, either to add some detail to the story or to say something about how Curly would be the death of him.

After lunch, Rose and Curly left together for their Ancient Runes class, leaving Moe and Larry to stare after them. Curly was still going on about something, waving his hands around as he walked, and almost ended up bumping into a curly-haired Gryffindor girl at the exit. Rose chuckled, and he flashed her a sheepish grin.

"Wonder how long it will take," Moe muttered from Larry's side.

Larry smirked. "Should we start bidding on who says it first?"

A figure appeared behind them, looming tall above the boys, and its bright blue hair immediately entered Larry's peripheral vision.

"On who says what first?" Teddy asked.

"Nothing," Larry said, wiping the smile from his face. "It's not important."

Teddy raised an eyebrow, but didn't press. "Okay… I came to tell you I'm calling an emergency prefects meeting today. Six PM, Prefects' Lounge."

Moe and Larry looked at each other. "Em-m-mergency m-m-meeting?" the Gryffindor stuttered.

Teddy nodded grimly. "It's to discuss last week's…" The corner of his mouth twitched. "Talking Tapestry incident."

Larry's cheeks burned with embarrassment, made even stronger by Moe's muffled snicker. "Oh."

Teddy patted his shoulder lightly before running off to intercept a pair of Hufflepuffs.

* * *

-O-

"Knight to M5."

The little red knight pranced across the chessboard and whinnied, breaking off the head of Larry's rook with its hooves.

"Well played, Mademoiselle Fa," he said, genuinely impressed.

Fa Liling, the 'Dragon of Gryffindor', was a spunky Asian girl with bright, fire-red hair and an up-beat can-do attitude that had earned her the title of Head Girl alongside Teddy Lupin at the beginning of the year. Currently, Liling sat across Larry in the Prefects' Lounge, beaming at him . "And that, I believe, is checkmate," she announced as the rest of her red figures surrounded Larry's white king. The door behind them opened as a few more prefects entered the room, taking a seat.

"True enough." He offered her a handshake, which she took without reservations.

"That makes it fourteen to three," the Head Girl said, grinning. "This year alone."

Larry shrugged. "I don't really keep score. Mostly, I participate for the pleasure of your company."

"Aw, aren't you sweet," Liling said, putting away the chess set. "See, Larry, this is why we're friends. I hate losing, and you don't mind it."

Larry chuckled. This much was true, at least where chess was concerned. At that moment, a palm gripped his shoulder and he looked up to see Teddy Lupin standing behind him again.

"Another win, Ling?" Teddy said.

"Obviously," Liling replied with a grin. "Are we missing anyone?"

The three of them threw a quick look around the room, silently taking headcount.

"Just Rose," Teddy said.

Larry frowned. It had been a while now since they'd heard from the Cloaks, but he still felt on edge every time someone was late.

And, judging by his tone, Teddy felt the same. "Rose is never late for a meeting," he muttered under his breath, sharing a worried glance with Larry. That was then Victoire Weasley, one of the Gryffindor prefects, approached and kissed the Head Boy on the cheek.

"So, when is this super important meeting going to start?" she asked, wrapping her arms around Teddy's waist. "You've kept me in suspense long enough!"

"We're just missing one of the Ravenclaws," Liling said, standing up. "I'll go look for her. Think you can hold the fort, Ted?"

"I'll come too," Larry added hastily. "I know her schedule."

The two headed for the door, but they had barely made two steps outside when they spotted Rose at the end of the corridor, talking with a tall, black-haired girl. Her face was pale as a sheet, and though her expression was a carefully controlled mask of indifference, her blue eyes betrayed a spark of fear. _Raven_ , Larry thought with a scowl and marched down the hall, already reaching inside his robes for the wand. But, as he drew nearer, he realised that the girl Rose was talking with was not Raven, but a slim Slytherin with large hoop earrings and tasteful makeup accentuating her sharp cheekbones and long eyelashes. For a moment, he was too surprised to speak.

Liling, however, did not have that issue. "Is there a problem here?"

The Slytherin turned to face her. Recognition ran across her face before she rolled her eyes and said, "Jesus, Fa, do you have to rain fire and brimstone on everyone you come across?"

Liling narrowed her eyes. "Only on snakes I come across. Is there a reason you're cornering my prefect?"

" _Your_ prefect?" the girl said mockingly. "Are you building your own little army now?"

"If I do, DeVille, you're the first person we're gunning down," Liling bit back. Then she turned to Rose, her tone noticeably softened. "Are you okay, Rose?"

Rose gave them a jerky nod.

The Slytherin rolled her eyes again. "We were just talking. Since when is that a crime?"

"Since now," Liling growled. "Beat it, before I decide to show you the way."

The girl picked at some lint on her grey-and-green cardigan. "Wow. And here I thought the Head Girl was supposed to look out for _all_ students. Way to flaunt your Gryffindor bias."

"I _am_ looking out for the students, Husniya," Liling said proudly, and Larry suddenly remembered that he had heard the name before. "It doesn't take a Third Eye to see you were threatening Rose, and I swear to Merlin, if you hurt another student I _will_ find a way to get you expelled."

"How bold," Husniya said in a bored drawl. "You have no evidence I've ever lifted my wand against anyone. But please, talk to me some more about your baseless suspicions and how that will get me expelled. I'm sure the Board of Governors will be thrilled to hear your grand tale of prejudice." The Slytherin started down the corridor as Liling glared at her. "Well, see you around, Rose," she said over her shoulder. "Keep in mind what I said."

"Rose?" Larry said softly, taking a step closer to his friend. "Are you sure you're okay?"

"Yes," she said, but her hand was clutching the strap of her school bag so hard her knuckles had turned white.

"Did she do anything to you?" Liling said, still scowling after Husniya.

"Nothing," Rose replied stiffly. "We were just talking, like she said."

Liling let out an angry huff. "Husniya DeVille isn't someone you want to be talking with."

"That thing you said," Larry cut in, "about her hurting students. Was that true?"

Liling crossed her arms, and her scowl deepened. "There was an incident last year. I'm not supposed to talk about it, and we could never definitively prove that she had a hand in it, but I _know_ that she did." Rose's hand slipped deep inside her robes pocket. Liling exhaled sharply, and when she spoke again, her tone was considerably softer. "Nevermind that now. Just be careful with her, okay? Let's get going; Teddy and the others are waiting for us."

Rose nodded obediently, and she and Larry followed the Head Girl back to the Prefects Lounge. At the door, which he held open for Liling, Larry noticed Rose had lagged behind. He turned, seeing her with a fist to her mouth again, and a light bulb went on in his brain. She was drinking something.

Before he could react, Rose hid her fist somewhere in her robes and rushed past him.

"Great, we're all here," Teddy said from inside, and Larry begrudgingly had to hold in his piece. He drew the door closed and took a seat between Rose and Victoire.

Teddy, who was standing at the foot of the long table, took stock of everyone in turn, gaze lingering on each face. "As you might have noticed, weird things have been happening in Hogwarts. Mysterious green lights wandering the halls. A person in a blue cloak, roaming the castle and grounds after hours. Some of you have only caught glimpses. Some have had confrontations with this individual. What I'm about to say here does not leave this room. Am I clear?"

A few people nodded. Teddy took in a breath to steady himself. His eyes crossed with Victoire's, who gave him an encouraging smile.

"These people you have encountered... are intruders."

Tamsin Little, one of the Hufflepuff prefects, gasped from across the table. Quiet murmurs spread in the air, and Teddy let them go on for a minute before raising his voice again.

"As of now, we still don't know what method they've used to sneak into our school. What we do know is that they tend to avoid crowds and that they are _dangerous_. I've gotten reports of both men and women in these blue cloaks, so be on your guard. From now on, no one patrols alone. If your respective partner is sick or cannot make the rounds, you both stay in your common room. If one of you needs to duck into the loo, the other one _waits_. If you have classes across the castle, you meet at the common room and go together from there."

One of the older Ravenclaw prefects raised his hand. "What if we can't stand our partner?"

Victoire threw him a sharp glare.

Teddy rolled his eyes. "Then you get counseling," he said. "I need you all go get this into your heads — these people can hurt you."

The Ravenclaw, Killian Jones, let his hand fall, but the scowl on his face deepened.

Aileen Campbell, one of fifth year Gryffindors, rolled her eyes and blew a few dark curls away from her face. "Och gie ower yerself, Killian!" she snapped, her Scottish accent so incredibly thick Larry had serious trouble making out the meaning. "Sae she broke up wi' ye, yoo're nae th' first bloke in th' warld tae gie dumped. Graw a pair!"

The two seventh year Ravenclaws glared at each other. Larry silently thanked Merlin that he and Rose were not like this.

Liling got to her feet and stood with Teddy — fiery red next to turquoise blue. "There are more important things going on right now than relationship drama! Teddy was pushed out of a tower by one of those maniacs! It's imperative that no one goes anywhere alone. And if you do see those cloaked guys — run."

"Run?" Victoire exclaimed incredulously, getting to her feet as well. "Excuse me, but those psychopaths almost killed my boyfriend!"

"Vic—" Teddy tried to intervene.

"If I see them in the hallways, they're getting a Bat Bogey Hex to the face!" Victoire finished fiercely, flipping the heavy curtain of blonde hair behind her shoulder.

"That's the problem," Teddy said. "Spells don't seem to work on them."

Everyone in the room stared at him, wide-eyed.

"Wh-What do you mean?" Tamsin ventured quietly.

Rose stood up as well. "They're wearing some sort of protection," she said calmly. Larry was a little surprised at the change in her attitude — just a few minutes ago she seemed shaken and afraid, and now all of a sudden she was standing tall, confident and in control. He'd never seen her shift gears so quickly before. "I've had a few grapples with these people myself, and I can tell you for a fact that they are untouchable by magic means. I suspect some sort of shield, although there is no solid evidence either way. I have seen one wield a Muggle weapon. Perhaps we should do the same."

Larry's jaw hit the floor.

Voices erupted around the table, some endorsing the proposal, some calling her crazy.

"Aye! We neit tae be able tae defend ourselves," Aileen shouted.

"Are you _out of your minds_? Carrying Muggle weapons in school?!" Leo, a Hufflepuff prefect, exclaimed.

One of the Slytherin guys joined in too. "As if this place wasn't dangerous enough; we don't need to bring in actual weapons in here!"

Teddy slammed his hand onto the table. "ENOUGH!" Everyone quieted and sat back down. Teddy looked at Rose. "Rose, have you lost it? We aren't bringing in Muggle weapons. The risk is too high; we'll only end up hurting each other. If you see the cloaked people, just run and report it to the nearest teacher. Our primary concern is the wellbeing of the students."

"An' whit if those students are bein' attacked?" Aileen said. "Th' best defence is a guid offence."

"The best defence in this case is to run away," Killian, the seventh year Ravenclaw, said. "And you seem to have missed the bit where Rose said _they_ have weapons."

"Ah missed naethin'," Aileen snapped.

The rabble rose up again, drowning out the words as everyone shouted over each other. Suddenly there was a bright flash of light, followed by an absolute silence. The prefects all reached for their throats, and when Larry did the same, he realised that he was no longer able to produce a single sound.

Victoire alone stood again, wand still clutched in her hand. When she spoke, her voice echoed in the quiet room. "We are students, not an organized militia. And in the end, the decision is not up to us — it's up to Teddy, Ling, the teachers, and ultimately, McGonagall. Do any of you see her approving the carrying of Muggle weapons inside this school?" She crossed her arms and paused to let that sink in. "Now, if there are no more outbursts, my boyfriend was trying to speak."

She sat down, and Larry felt the tightening in his throat disappear. No one said a thing until Teddy cleared his throat.

"Ahem. Thanks for that, Vic. Since we all agree that there will be no Muggle dueling in the halls, I'll repeat again. If you see this person — run. If you see them attacking a student — try to get that student to safety, then run. Never patrol on your own. And, most importantly, keep this on the down low. We don't need panic spreading throughout the school."

Rose frowned. "We aren't telling people?"

"Rose, I already went through this once," Teddy said, a little irritated. "It's important that we keep it under wraps for now. Whoever the cloaked people are, they seem to be trying to avoid conflict, so as long as we stay out of their way—"

"They'll get what they want," Rose snapped. "They're after something, and it's rather obvious it's a magical object hidden in the school, judging by their prior illegal activities. Don't you care that they'll get it? What if it's something dangerous?"

Teddy pinched the bridge of his nose. "Rose. What I care about is the safety of the students. It's not our place to stop actual criminals. I don't want anyone here to get hurt playing the hero."

"But—"

"The decision has been made," Liling added firmly. "This meeting was for information purposes only. Whoever these cloaked people are, they aren't looking for a fight. Don't give them one."

Rose scowled but didn't say anything more.

"What about Aurors?" Larry said. "Isn't the Ministry doing anything about this?"

Teddy nodded. "They are. There will be increased security in Hogsmeade and Harry Potter will arrange for a rotating shift of Aurors in the school after dark in the next few days. I'm not in on all the specifics yet. Like Ling said, this is purely an instructional meeting. It's not our job to deal with this threat."

"Not to mention," Victoire cut in, "that us thrumpeting about this might get in the way of the Aurors' investigation. They still need to find out who these people are, how they're getting in and what they want."

Teddy threw her a grateful smile. "That too."

After the meeting was over, the shellshocked prefects headed for the Great Hall. Larry and Rose walked in silence with the group for a little while, before he seized his chance and pulled her aside in one of the alcoves along the wall.

"Okay, what is going on with you?" he said in a half-whisper. "Calling for Muggle weapons to be brought in? Conspiring with that Husniya girl in the hallways?"

"We weren't… conspiring," Rose replied, looking away.

"Then what was that?" Larry insisted.

"I..." Rose shifted uncomfortably, but he blocked the exit with his arm, trapping her. She wasn't going anywhere until he got answers.

Larry felt it was time for all the cards to be on the table. "Rose… I know you're taking something. What is it?" Her eyes met his for all of a second, widening with surprise, before she averted them to the floor again. When she didn't reply, Larry went on. "Are you going to tell me it's a coincidence that I see you drinking a mysterious liquid, and all but seconds later you do something completely reckless and out of character? How many times do I have to tell you this, Rose — if something is wrong, I want to help you." His voice softened. "You're not alone anymore."

She still refused to look at him. "Husniya isn't happy about the rumours that are spreading," she said, so quietly he almost missed it. "About the… the pumpkin incident."

Larry waited for her to elaborate, but she didn't. "And what does she expect you to do? You can't stop people from talking, and the whole class saw it happen."

"She wants—"

Footsteps echoed close by, interrupting them.

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah, of course. Go with the others, Vic, I'll be down in a minute. Just have to check in with McGonagall."

Larry and Rose peeked around the corner, where Teddy was saying goodbye to Victoire. The blonde witch stood up on her toes to kiss his cheek again, then disappeared from view. Teddy remained rooted where he was, waving at her. Then the smile slipped from his face and he reached inside his robes, retrieving a worn piece of parchment. After scanning it quickly, he put it away, looked from right to left to make sure he was alone, and took out his wand. Larry and Rose exchanged a glance. Teddy was definitely up to something.

"Where do you think he's going?" Rose whispered.

"With his wand drawn?" Larry said. "I think I have a pretty good idea."

The two left the alcove and silently followed the Head Boy, hiding around corners and keeping a respectable distance. Teddy walked briskly down the corridor, descended a staircase to the fourth floor, and then continued along until he reached the foot of a spiral staircase. With one last look at the parchment in his hand, he dove in, a determined look on his face.

"What is he looking for in the West Tower?" Rose whispered as she and Larry stood in front of the staircase, listening to Teddy's footsteps echo above.

"I'm not sure," Larry said thoughtfully. "But I think… he's looking for traces of the Cloaks."

"After explicitly telling us not to go looking for a fight?" Rose gasped incredulously and marched up the stairs. Larry followed, trying to keep up.

At the top, they found Teddy staring at a blank wall, the parchment clutched tightly in his hand. Hearing their footsteps, he whirled around, wand pointed at their chests.

"Larry!" Teddy exclaimed in surprise, lowering the wand. "Rose. What are you two—"

"Better question is," Rose interrupted, hands at her hips, "what are _you_ doing here? You told us not to play the hero."

Teddy grinned, twirling his wand playfully. "Yeah. _You_ shouldn't play heroes. I didn't say anything about _me_."

Rose frowned at him, crossing her arms. "You do know that that badge on your chest does not grant you immortality, right?"

For the first time ever, Larry considered that _he_ might be a bad influence on one of his friends. It usually went the other way around. He stepped forward before things could escalate. "Head Boy or not, you could use the back up. What exactly are you looking for up here?"

Teddy's grin made way to a more concerned expression. "Listen, you two, I'm serious. I don't want anyone to get hurt."

Rose made a show of looking around the room. "The air is a little dusty, but I think we'll survive," she said flatly.

"There's nothing here, Teddy," Larry said to the Head Boy.

Teddy sighed, scratching the back of his undercut. "Fine, fine. You can help. I checked my, ah… my map after the meeting. There was a man up here, someone I didn't recognise. He was standing right here and then..." He made a wide, sweeping gesture with his arm. "He was gone."

Larry frowned. "He just disappeared? Are you sure? The Marauders Map is supposed to be 100% accurate, right?"

Teddy stared at him for a second, thunderstruck. "How do you know about the—" Then he facepalmed. "Oh, of course. Curly?"

Larry chuckled. "You really should think more before showing important things to a hyperactive twelve-year-old if you want them to stay a secret."

Teddy sighed again, but the corner of his mouth curved up into a smile. "Yeah, that one's on me. But the map is never wrong. The only way that man could have disappeared in an instant is if he Apparated, which can't happen on school grounds… Or if he went somewhere that isn't on the map itself." He turned to the wall again, staring at it af if he expected the answer to appear on it in perfect cursive. "But that's crazy," Teddy muttered under his breath as Larry drew closer to stand beside him.

Stroking his chin thoughtfully, the prefect said, "Is it possible it's malfunctioning? Maybe the charms on it are wearing off?"

Teddy sank into a contemplative silence. "It has been a couple of decades… But this is the first time the map would be glitching out like that."

"Well, maybe we can reinforce the charms?" Larry suggested.

"Or," Rose said behind them, "maybe he went into a secret passageway."

Teddy huffed. "Not a chance. My dad made this map, and he's been everywhere in this castle. He couldn't have missed something… Not here."

There was a heavy sound of stone grinding against stone. Larry and Teddy whipped around, only to find Rose standing back at the staircase… where there now was a hole in the wall next to her.

Teddy stared at her, wide-eyed. "How... How did you know about this?"

Rose looked away, embarrassed, and tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. "Erm… I once stumbled into it."

Teddy didn't waste time with questions and immediately rushed over. " _Lumos_." The tip of his wand ignited, but as far as the eye could see, there was nothing but black. "Well, if you survived the trip..." he said, right before plunging in.

Larry and Rose exchanged a look but followed the faint glow of Teddy's wand. The passage was narrow, dark and filled with spiderwebs, and it wasn't long before the two prefects ignited their own wands as well.

"So..." Larry said after a few minutes of silent exploring. "How did you end up finding this tunnel?"

"Erm… This tower… this is where I first met Curly," Rose said.

Larry chuckled. "So this is where he nearly died," he said, not even trying to contain the snark. The West Tower, which had an excellent view overlooking the west courtyard, was a perfect aiming spot for a water-balloon-based attack.

Rose nodded. "It was after my first Frog Choir rehearsal and… I got a little lost. I stumbled into a part of the castle I'd never been in before, and I pressed something. I know I started on the second floor and dook the stairs down, but I somehow ended up… here." Rose had to duck under an enormous spider web blocking the top half of the tunnel. Larry followed, trying not to think of what had made it and how big it probably was. "He was standing right there, at the window, when I came out," she continued.

And Larry knew the rest. She startled him, he fell, she barely managed to pull him back. History was made.

"Hey, there's a staircase going down here," Teddy called from up front. "And one going up."

Larry shined his wand up. "I think this might be where you came from," he said to Rose.

Teddy squinted up at it. "Displacement charm, looks like. Might have a _Confundus_ weaved into it somewhere." Then he turned to the others again. "Question is, then, which road did our intruder take?"

"Hmm… It is reasonable to assume he did not go up," Larry said. "Since we are at the top of the tower, he would likely presume they led outside, to the roof. To a normal person, the stairs down would seem like the only way forward."

"Unless there's more convoluted architecture involved," Teddy mused. "Heh, I should bring Victoire in here for a date sometime. She'll get a kick out of the design."

Larry could not fathom why a date in this dark, cramped hallway might be considered a good dating spot, but he did not dwell on it and instead suggested, "We can always come back and try the other way later."

"True," Teddy said, turning to face the staircases. "Down we go, then."

The trio descended the ominous staircase. An odd, seaweed-like smell in the stale air, and Larry heard Rose take a shaky breath next to him. He threw her a questioning glance to make sure she was okay, but she simply nodded. As they followed Teddy further down, a candelabra on the wall suddenly came to life.

"Look at the design on that..." Teddy said, stopping next to it. His fingers caressed the instricate snake-shaped holder, and the whole thing swiveled to the side.

The stairs beneath them flattened into a smooth slide. Panicked screams bounced off the walls as the three of them flew down along the curved shape of what was once a winding staircase. More and more torches lit up as they passed by, illuminating the darkness. At the end of the slide they hit some sort of spell: their speed slowed, the angle they were falling at changed, and somehow all three of them found themselves standing up on their feet, completely stable—if somewhat windblown—at the entrance to another tunnel.

"Where are we?" Rose whispered, craning her neck up at the dots of light above them.

"Below the castle, I think," Larry said, mentally trying to measure how far down they'd gone. It felt like they'd been falling for mere seconds, but looking up it was clear that they'd covered a considerable distance.

"No," Teddy said. He was standing right at the entrance of the new tunnel, his wand shining a light down the circular corridor as water dripped from the ceiling. "Below the lake." He turned to face them. "I think this might be a way out of the school."

There was a loud, muted sound up above them, like the rolling of distant thunder. They could almost feel the pressure against the stone walls surrounding them as something big and heavy swam by on the other end. Rose found Larry's hand and squeezed it in a vice-like grip, her fingers almost crushing his.

"I think that's the Giant Squid," Teddy said reassuringly. "We should be okay."

Then, somewhere in the expanse of the tunnel, past Teddy's right shoulder, Larry saw a flicker of green light. "Look," he whispered, pointing with this free hand. "That's him!"

Teddy whipped around and broke into a run, his blue converse splashing in water as he sprinted towards the distant light. "Stay here!" he yelled back at them.

Larry rolled his eyes and ran after him, wand at the ready. He was a few feet deep before it hit him that Rose was following. Skittering to a stop as Teddy continued on without him, he whipped around to look for his friend. He spotted her still there, at the entrance, fumbling around her robes with shaking hands.

With a quick look over his shoulder at the distancing light of Teddy's wand, Larry made up his mind and ran back to the staircase. "Rose, let's go, he's getting away!" he said, reaching for her. She recoiled from his wet fingers as if they were covered with acid. He wanted to slap himself. Of course. _Water_. Rose was afraid of water.

"Rose, I have to go help Teddy, okay?" he said urgently, already backtracking to the tunnel. "We'll be right—"

"N-no, I can, I can, I can help this time." Her whole body was shaking, fingers twitching as she was trying to uncap a vial of blue liquid.

It hit him all at once that she was about to drink whatever made her act irrationally, and before he knew it he was in front of her again, grasping her wrists. "No, Rose! Whatever this is, don't take it!"

"I have to!" She struggled fiercely in his hold as if her life depended on the little blue vial.

"Rose, no! It's bad for you!"

"No!" she screamed. "No, you don't understand! I need it! I NEED IT!"

Larry was shocked. He'd never seen her like this, so desperate, so out of control.

"I'm nothing without the potion!" Rose shrieked, and to his horror her voice broke. "I'm a useless coward!"

Larry glanced at the vial, and it dawned on him. A blue potion. Liquid courage. "Rose, have you been taking courage potions?" There was a yell somewhere behind him, and a bright light illuminated her wild eyes. An urgent whisper at the back of his head reminded him that Teddy was fighting a Cloak down there, but right now he couldn't just leave Rose. "Are you out of your mind?" he said, trying to snap her back to her old self. "They have serious side effects! That's why you've been so reckless and impulsive — they make you lose your inhibitions! You can't keep drinking them!"

"I NEED THEM!"

His grip around her wrists tightened, and he shook her, as roughly as he dared. "No, you don't! You're brave enough without them!"

"No, no, NO!" Rose continued to twist and squirm, but he could tell she was getting tired. "Give it to me, Larry! If we were ever friends, give it back!"

"I will not," Larry replied firmly. "As your friend, it's my job to make sure you don't make stupid mistakes like this! How long have you been taking these? Where did you even get them?"

"They're safe, I promise! Curly's potions are always flawless! He wouldn't mind if I took some, he didn't even notice! Give it back, give it back!"

For one, terrifying second, Larry actually thought Curly might have brewed this for her on purpose. Of course, that was ridiculous. If he knew…

"If Curly had the faintest idea what his potions have brought you to, he'd never go near a cauldron again," Larry said. Something exploded behind him, and he felt water lap at his heels.

Rose stopped struggling, panting heavily, her head bowed down. "I need them, Larry," she whispered, and her body was wracked by a silent sob. "If I had them with me when the Greenhouse exploded, I would have helped you put out the fire. You wouldn't have been in there, suffocating."

He stared at her, feeling as if a giant metal fist had punched him right in the gut. "Rose..."

"A spray of water. I couldn't even make a measly spray of water." She looked up at him, her blue eyes swimming. "I wanted to be brave, like you. But I'm not." Her gaze flickered briefly to the tunnel behind him. "Just watching that tunnel, I can feel the fear rising up my throat, choking me, freezing my insides. With the potion, I can be brave. I can do what I need to do, I can walk through that water and help Teddy."

Larry didn't know what to say. Here was his friend, on the brink of tears, wanting to use a potion to get over her aquaphobia, and he stood in her way. Just for a second, he looked at the vial and wondered why he was keeping it from her. Then he remembered all the things she'd done because of it, all the danger she'd blindly jumped into. His grip loosened and he let go, only to swipe the vial from her fingers and crush it under his foot.

Rose let out a choked gasp, sinking to her feet. Larry knelt down, placing his hands on her shoulders.

"Rose, look at me," he commanded. She obeyed, barely keeping back her tears. "You don't need this potion to be brave." She shook her head, but he gently tightened his hold. "Listen. There is more than one way to be brave. This potion, that's _recklessness_. It's a Gryffindor type of courage. That's not who you are."

She shook her head again. "Without it I never would have saved Fitz," she muttered, sounding an awful lot like she had a bad cold.

"Yes, you would have," he reassured her. "Your own way. And maybe you wouldn't have jumped out and revealed our position, causing Fitz to come defend us." Her eyes snapped to his, and she started at him as if he'd just fallen down from space. "And maybe you wouldn't have blown up the Skrewt lair and released all those baby skrewts onto the unsuspecting public. You would have found another way. A smarter way." Her head drooped again. "You already are brave, Rose. You stood up for Moe and turned a girl's head into a pumpkin. You jumped into the burning Greenhouse to drag me out. You torched that spider in the Forbidden Forest and saved our lives."

"That wasn't courage," she said quietly. "That was fear. All of it. I was so afraid that—"

"Courage is not the absence of fear," he cut her off, making her finally look at him again. "Courage is making a choice. The choice that there is something more important than fear. If you aren't afraid… then you're not really being brave."

Rose sniffled. "That… That actually makes sense," she said.

Larry smiled. If there was anything that would sway Rose, it would be a logical argument.

Something rumbled behind them again, like a giant monster yawning. Larry turned around, just in time to see Teddy running towards them.

"Gotta go, gotta go, gotta go!"

As he whizzed past them, the Head Boy caught hold of Larry's sleeve, pulling him along. He in turn dragged Rose with them, and they leaped towards the smooth stairs-slide. The rumble of water echoed in their ears as a wave poured out of the tunnel. Mid-jump, the three teens' trajectory changed again, and suddenly they were falling up, the exact way they came. The whole thing was extremely disorienting, and Larry had to summon all his willpower to stop himself from vomiting.

Once they reached the top (bottom?) of the stairs, the three landed in a messy pile of black robes and limbs. With a groan, Larry managed to tilt his head sideways and throw a glance down the stairwell. It was quickly filling up with water.

"You both in one piece?" Teddy said. "If you're missing body parts, I know a guy that can lend you a fishing rod."

Larry let out a strangled laugh. "Well, at least we know the Cloaks won't be using this entrance again."

"Unless they bring scuba suits," Teddy said, helping Rose to her feet. He stared down at the rising water with a scowl. "I guess I'll have to go see McGonagall after all."


	13. Chapter 13

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 13**

Moe squinted at the tiny piece of conductive metal between his pincers, trying to figure out the best angle to place it at. With nervous anticipation, he lowered the piece down to the unfinished mess of parts on his work table, trying to ignore the _tap tap tap_ of footsteps behind him. _Steady… steady… just a liiiiiittle lower…_

Tap tap tap tap. _Crash!_

Moe straightened up, barely keeping in a frustrated sigh.

"Is something on your mind?" he asked, turning around to face the pacing Curly. The Hufflepuff was frantically trying to put back the parts he'd knocked from one of the shelves and half-turned to give Moe a guilty grin. Moe frowned at the mess on the Lab floor. "I told you not to touch that stuff."

"Sorry," Curly said, trying to balance five pieces of scrap on the shelf as he stacked them over each other. "I've just been a little restless, I guess."

"Any reason for that?" Moe asked, resigned to the fact that nothing was going to get done until whatever was bothering Curly was resolved.

"Yeah..." Curly took a tentative step back, watching the tower of scrap, which swayed dangerously. "Rose." Once he was sure the parts wouldn't tumble back down, he went over to the blue bean bag chair (only one today) and sank in it.

"Oh." Moe's eyes immediately fell to the floor. He'd been expecting this, of course, but also kind of dreading it at the same time. He didn't know anything about girls. He didn't _understand_ girls or relationships, or sappy feelings, or any of that crap. He understood magic and technology. And photography. And video games. Those were his zones. And in his zones, he was king. But outside of that… he was a freak. "Uh…." he said, wracking his brain for something to say. Something reassuring. "I-I'm sure that… she-she's thinking about you too," Moe finished lamely. He wished Larry were there; he'd know what to do.

Curly looked up, confused. "What?"

Moe's face immediately reddened. "No-not that I-I would know a-anything about that s-stuff! I don't know anything about Rose!" That came out wrong.

Curly tilted his head like a bewildered dog. "What are you talking about?"

"I-I-nothing! I'm not talking about anything! Why, what are you talking about?"

"I'm talking about Rose," Curly said patiently, standing up.

Moe's face became redder, if that was even possible. "You sh-should go to Larry about that," he mumbled. "If you need to talk about magic, I'm your guy, but I'm no good when it comes to... girls." Moe shuddered visibly. Was there anything more terrifying than girls? Monsters, beasties and baddies, he'd take those on any day over a single, scary **girl**.

Curly grinned, approaching. "Is that so? Well, last time I checked Rose was a witch. That makes her… a _magical_ girl." He wiggled his eyebrows.

"Still a girl," Moe said, swiveling around in his chair to get back to work.

"But still magical," Curly teased, taking a seat next to him. "Falls into your area of expertise."

Moe took up the pincers again but frowned at his friend's remark. "Rose is not a toy. She's not a flashy gadget whose specs I can pull up." She was a girl, but more importantly, "She's a friend." A girl **and** friend. Rose was not his first girl-and-friend, but in the short time that she had been so to him, Moe felt that relationship with her very acutely.

Curly smiled warmly at him. "That is true," he said. "Which is why I've been thinking… And I have a plan."

Moe cocked one thin, distinctly scary eyebrow up. "A plan? Isn't that a little overkill? Just talk to her, I'm pretty sure she'll say yes."

"Oh, Rose will," Curly said. "But Raven might take some convincing."

Moe dropped the pincers and his face instantly went red again. " _Raven?!_ " There was so much blood rushing to his head he wondered how it hadn't exploded yet. He did _not_ want to know what Curly was thinking that involved both Raven and Rose! He was just a nerd in his nerd space, in which Curly had just brought in _girl talk_! **How was he supposed to deal with this?!**

Curly looked at him, once again confused. "Yes," he said slowly. "Raven. Who has been bullying Rose. I've been thinking of ways to get her to stop, and I've come up with a plan."

Moe stared at him blankly for a few minutes. His mind was suddenly overloaded with information as neurons surged through his brain, reconstructing the last five minutes of the conversation, this time applying the correct context and at the same time realising what a total spaz he'd been.

"Uh, Moe? Buddy?" Curly waved a hand in front of his face. "You still with me?"

The young inventor jerked away, brought back to the present. "Um-ah-uh-I-ye-yes. I'm here. I-I thought you—nevermind." He rubbed two fingers against his throbbing right temple, trying to focus. "What—what were you saying?"

Curly, by now used to Moe's freak moments, simply smiled. "I was saying that I have a plan."

* * *

-O-

"The rebels' faster ships actually turned out to be a match for the Iron Fleet, largely thanks to Queen Kenna's leadership, but then, just as the tide of combat was beginning to turn and it looked like they were on the verge of victory, what they thought were dark clouds in the sky turned out to be airships! No doubt designed personally by Hex, King Luther's chief engineer and a complete madwoman. The airships started firing on Queen Kenna's fleet, and it seemed like all was lost. But then Dominic saw a bomb heading for Kenna's ship, and he realised that she was about to die, and then he suddenly transformed into a dragon!"

Rose punctuated her story with a sweeping, dramatic gesture, almost knocking down the pitcher of pumpkin juice, but Larry's hand shot out from across the Hufflepuff table and stabilised it. Curly had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing.

"And then," she continued, just as spiritedly, "then he flew up, and he started bringing down the airships with blue bursts of fire! It was a great twist, narratively, because it was foreshadowed before when he survived the lava in that volcano, but no one knew the extent of his abilities anyway, and with his help the battle turned once again to Kenna's favour. He was very smart about it too, targeting the engines of the ships, which does make a lot of sense considering the hull's integrity and the—"

Curly just kept listening, completely engrossed in Rose's tale. Any story that featured warrior queens and dragons was bound to get his attention, but more than anything he was amused by how animated Rose got. He loved seeing her excited about things.

As she continued to describe the final battle of the book in great detail, Curly caught Larry giving him a look over the edge of his newspaper, a knowing smirk playing on his face. Their eyes met for only a second before Larry returned his gaze to the _Daily Prophet_ , taking a sip from his tea.

"But then," Rose said, absorbing Curly's attention again, "he lost control of the dragon form and was captured by Hex and taken away! The book ended in a cliffhanger!" She sighed in frustration, glaring at the closed volume on the table in front of her as if it had offended her on purpose.

Curly laughed. "Sounds like I should really read that book."

"It's Larry's," Rose said, still pouting. "I'd recommend you wait until the sequel comes out before reading it, but he would probably let you borrow it."

"I don't know," Larry replied, once again throwing Curly an amused glance. "I think he'd prefer hearing the story from you."

Curly laughed and shrugged nonchalantly. "I wouldn't really mind. You tell it in a very entertaining way."

Larry didn't add anything as his eyes dropped to the paper, but he was smirking again. As for Rose, she seemed almost offended.

"But you _have_ to read it for yourself!" she said passionately. "That way you connect with the characters and their inner struggle more, and you're able to appreciate the author's subtle hints sprinkled throughout and—"

Curly laughed again, putting his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay, I give! I'll read the book! Larry?"

Larry shrugged. "Knock yourself out. Just remember to bring it back in its original condition or I'm feeding you to a Venus Flower. _D'accord_?"

No sooner had he said this and Rose pressed the book to Curly's chest insistently.

"Gotcha," the Hufflepuff replied, trying to keep in another laugh. The book was kinda thick, with a brown cover depicting a proud-looking brunette brandishing a sword and a blue dragon flying in the background. The golden lettering above them read _The Crown & The Flame_.

Rose's eyes lingered on the entrance to the Great Hall, and her expression turned serious. "Moe never showed up for lunch," she said.

"Probably got caught up in the Lab again," Larry said.

"He does that," Rose admitted with a sigh.

"I swung by this morning to leave him breakfast. He seemed very into the new thing he's building," Curly said. "Probably hasn't even left the place all day."

Rose frowned at the plates, as if it was their fault Moe was a workaholic. "We'll just have to make sure he eats properly at dinner."

Curly tried—and failed—to stifle a laugh at the grim determination in her eyes. He could see why Moe said she was scary sometimes.

"In the meantime, we should probably get going," Larry said, folding the newspaper. "Our next class starts shortly."

"Right." Curly stuffed the _The Crown & The Flame_ in his bag.

They walked together to the doors of the Great Hall, where Rose waved goodbye and headed to her Frog Choir meeting. As the two boys continued alone up the marble staircase, Curly took the opportunity to reveal the plan he'd discussed with Moe that morning.

"Well?" he said hopefully, narrowly avoiding a collision with some rowdy second years that ran past them in the hall. "What do you think?"

Larry's face wore a deep frown as he kept walking along, school bag swinging from his shoulder. "I don't mean to sound pessimistic, but it's a long shot."

"But if she just _gets to know her_ ," Curly repeated earnestly. "I know it will work!"

Larry seemed to think about it for a minute. "I'm not saying that it definitely won't. I simply think that it's a gambit. You can't solve all your problems by converting everyone to the Church of Saint Curly."

Curly laughed heartily at that, and even Larry cracked a smile as they ascended up the staircase to the third floor.

"So I've reached sainthood now?" the Hufflepuff quipped.

Larry rolled his eyes but kept smiling. "Spare me the pretense, please. We're all so down the hatch it's a miracle you haven't offered us Kool-Aid yet."

"I don't know how comfortable I am with you comparing my humble parish to the Jamestown massacre," Curly said in-between chuckles.

"'Humble parish'? Half the school has joined your cult," Larry returned, laying the sarcasm thick.

"First of all," Curly said, barely keeping in a laugh, "stop bashing your own cult." Larry rolled his eyes again, but Curly could tell he was close to cracking up too. "And second," he added, shaking his head in an attempt to get back on topic, "this isn't about me. I won't even _be_ there!"

"Still," Larry insisted. "Not everyone can be converted via the power of friendship." His smile faded, and he added in a darker tone, "Not everyone deserves to."

"But," Curly insisted as the two got to the top of the stairs and took a right turn by the Portrait of the Red Lady, continuing down a corridor flanked by wide, unglazed windows. "If they really did become friends, she wouldn't bully her. And if they could just spend some time together, if Raven could just _see_ Rose the way that _we_ see her, she'll—"

"She'll love her?" Larry finished for him, smirking again for some reason.

Before Curly could reply to that, Larry's eyes focused on something else. The Ravenclaw elbowed him in the ribs and pointed to a familiar glint of bleached white hair walking a few feet ahead of them.

 _Alister_.

Curly clapped his friend on the back. "Be right back." He fastened his pace, making a way through the sea of students. When he reached a tall, lanky Slytherin walking alone amid the chattering crowd, Curly fell into step with him and tapped him on the shoulder. "Hey. Have you talked to Raven yet?"

"Oh." Alister scratched the back of his white head awkwardly. "I did, but she's… uh, very... independent." His blue eyes met Curly's apologetically. "She doesn't like stuck-up purebloods and hates Rose in particular. I'm not sure she'll ever come around."

"But Rose isn't stuck-up!" Curly protested. "You know that!"

"I do," Alister said quickly. "Look, mate, I like Rose just fine. But Raven… Once her mind's made up, she sticks to her guns. It's not likely to change."

Curly sighed in frustration. There had to be a way.

"Listen," Alister said, putting a hand on his shoulder as they stopped next to the fourth floor staircase. "Maybe… maybe _you_ should talk to her." Curly stared at him, surprised. "I know you won't like what I'm about to say, but you're actually a pretty good manipulator. Maybe if you talk to Raven—"

Curly shrugged his hand off. "I'm _not_ a manipulator," he said, the word leaving a bitter taste in his mouth.

"I didn't mean anything bad by it," Alister said quickly. "It's just that… you can be very... convincing. You're good with people."

Curly's brow creased in a deep frown. He didn't like the turn this conversation was taking, and he liked even less what his cousin was implying. Forget _implying_ , he outright said it!

"Look," Alister said. "I didn't mean to step on your toes. My point is, I'm not getting anywhere with Raven, so if you want her to give Rose a chance, it's up to you to persuade her. She won't listen to me."

With that Alister continued up the staircase, leaving Curly to stare after him.

A minute later, Larry caught up, coming to a stop next to his friend. "Everything okay?" he asked, eyeing Curly carefully.

"Yeah," Curly said, adjusting the strap of his school bag. "Yeah, it's fine. Let's go."

"So," Larry said lightly as they continued down the corridor. "What did Alister say?"

Curly didn't reply right away. "Larry… Am I manipulative?"

Larry stopped in his tracks, too surprised to reply. Curly turned to look at him, waiting for an answer.

"Where did that come from?" the Ravenclaw asked.

"Just answer the question."

For one agonisingly long moment, Larry held his gaze in silence. "No."

Curly felt a weight lifting from his shoulders and let out a breath he hadn't realised he was holding. "Really?" he said, a tiny smile pulling at the corner of his mouth.

"Really," Larry said. "To manipulate means to exercise unscrupulous control or influence over a person or situation. I can't see you being unscrupulous."

"But," Curly said thoughtfully as the two continued on their way to class, "I am good with people. And I can… I can convince them of things."

Larry smirked. "You don't have to tell _me_ that."

"So have I manipulated you?" Curly shot, suddenly distressed again. "Or Moe? Or Rose?"

"Is that what's bothering you?" Larry asked perceptively.

Curly bowed his head. "Not… only that. But it's part of it. I just… I don't _mean_ to be—"

"And you're not." Larry put a hand on his shoulder, but it felt different than Aliser's. "Intent matters in these things. You never made anyone do something they did not wish to do. And believe me, if I truly did not want to do something, I would not have done it, no matter what you said." Curly huffed a weak laugh at that, and Larry smiled warmly. "You just… know what to say to help me see the bigger picture. Change the way I look at things."

"But I don't wanna be that guy," Curly said, trying to make him understand. "I don't want to… to _coerce_ people into things, or to change them."

Larry was silent for a moment. "You try to help people," he said. "That's not a crime. If someone changed due to associating with you, it's not because you made them do it. It's because you inspired them to."

Curly gave his friend a lopsided smile. "Doesn't that still make me a cult leader?"

Larry huffed. " _I was joking._ You would make for a crappy cult leader — part of the indoctrination process involves thought reform and constant control of the cultists' lives. You'd get too distracted with quidditch and video games to ever run a successful cult."

Larry's snark loosened something that had been wound up tightly inside Curly's chest, and his smile grew a little. "You ever considered doing more quidditch yourself? If you give pep talks like that to your team, the Cup is as much as yours."

Larry chuckled, then patted Curly's shoulder before retracting his hand. "The honour of my pep talks is reserved only for certain individuals." Then he added, more sincerely, "Did it work?"

Curly straightened up. "Yeah. Yeah, it did. Thanks, mate."

"Anytime."

* * *

-O-

A few days went by before Curly had the opportunity to do anything about this. It was on Friday afternoon that he caught sight of Raven in the courtyard. She was sitting alone, a little to the side of a chirping group of enthusiastic second years, reading a big, leather-bound book.

"Hellllo, Raven," he said, flashing her his most winning smile as he sat down beside her.

"What do you want, Fitzherbert," she asked evenly, turning a page.

"What do I want? Hm, since you ask, a cup of hot chocolate would be pretty nice right about now." Raven looked up at him, raising an eyebrow. He laughed it off with a shrug. "I'm an easy guy to please."

"Get to the point or get lost," she said, gaze returning to the book.

"Points are prickly." Part of him wondered how much he could push his luck with this. "Not a big fan. But you know what, hot chocolate is warm and soothing. How about we have some?"

Raven's dark eyes met his again. "You do know I have a boyfriend, right?" A faint note of threat chimed in her voice.

Curly immediately put up his hands in a placating gesture. "Hey, I'm not trying to make a move on my cousin's girl. I just want to talk. Preferably not out here in the cold."

Her eyes narrowed. "I'm not going anywhere with you."

He shrugged. "Well, preferable is not the same as necessary. Are you sure you don't want hot chocolate?"

Right on cue, a House Elf popped into existence next to them, holding a silver platter with two steaming mugs.

"My own recipe," Curly said, taking one and lifting it to his lips. The sweet liquid cascaded down his throat, filling him with warmth.

Raven's suspicious gaze flickered between him, the elf, and the mugs, but at the end she must have decided he wasn't about to poison her on school grounds and took one. Curly beamed, winking at his assistant. Binky the House Elf bowed, then disappeared with another _pop_.

"You planned this well," Raven said with a bit of begrudging respect after she took a sip, closing her book and putting it away. "Fine, I'll hear you out. You have five minutes."

Success! He'd gotten her to give him a chance, and that was really half the battle won. Curly twisted the steaming cup between his cold fingers as she took another sip. He decided to lead in with some chit-chat. Test the waters. "So, Alister said he brought you back to his place near the end of summer. Did you catch Aunt Anna?"

Raven huffed. "Only the last few days of her visit. That woman has _a lot_ of energy. So glad Alister's mother is not as bouncy."

Curly couldn't help a grin. "Kind of runs in the family. My mum's like that too."

Finally, Raven gave him a tiny shadow of a smile. "So are you. Alister must have been passed over by some gene. You're… third cousins?"

"Second," Curly corrected her. "Our grandmothers were sisters." He took another heavenly sip of his hot chocolate. "Did Uncle Jack show you his new snowcone machine?" Raven nodded. "Guess who helped him test it."

Now Raven full-on laughed. "Oh, Alister already told me about that. You really can last an impressively long amount of time under a pile of snow."

Curly scratched the back of his head, grinning sheepishly. "Yeah, no clue how I didn't go into a hypothermic shock. Took them forever to dig me out." She chuckled, and Curly decided that was a good enough sign to ease into the question. "Wish you'd have been there; could have used at least one person that can do a proper Excavation Charm without risking blowing me to bits. Aliser says you're good at Charms."

She shrugged. "Ought to be. My mother made a business out of charmed objects."

"Ah. Would you be willing to help a struggling sixth year?"

He didn't know if it was the hot chocolate, the jokes or the praise, but at least one of his gambits was paying off.

"Maybe." Raven smiled over the edge of her cup, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. "That depends on how much hot chocolate you bring to our study sessions."

"As much as you want," he volunteered immediately. "Rose doesn't usually like food or drinks near her textbooks, but I'm sure this one time she'll make an exception."

As soon as the words left his mouth, Raven's friendliness disappeared like smoke. "Rose Waltz. I should have known. Just how many guard dogs does she have?"

"Rose's pet is a cat, actually," Curly said calmly. "And she has no idea I'm talking to you."

Raven threw him a poisonous glare. "Oh please. You expect me to believe she hasn't sent you here to set me up?"

"Yes," he replied simply. Curly had nothing to hide. "Larry told me what happened at the Blast-Ended Skrewt lair."

"Ha!" she exclaimed. "You mean he told you how Rose sicked a whole swarm of them on me and the whole of Hogsmeade Village out of pettiness?"

"She didn't do that on purpose," Curly countered evenly.

"Oh please! She knew she would lose, so she cheated!" Raven yelled, startling the nearby group of second years. "Tch. That's just like purebloods; if something doesn't go their way, they make it blow up in everyone's face."

"They weren't the ones that chose the task," Curly said. He wasn't disagreeing or blaming. He was just stating the facts.

Raven threw him a scorching glare. "Those things were supposed to be hibernating!"

"Clearly they weren't. Hibernation is not like sleep — even if Rose wanted to, she probably couldn't have woken a thing like that."

For a second, she looked like she'd forgotten how to speak. Her mouth closed and opened again a few times before her eyes fell down to her cup. She was still scowling. "Fine. Maybe I was wrong. But that doesn't mean—"

"It doesn't matter," Curly said. "It doesn't matter who was wrong or right, who started it or where it led. It's doesn't have to be that way." He left a pause to let it all sink in. "I know Rose can seem… uptight. She's a little closed off at first, but she's open and fun with her friends."

Raven huffed. "Her? _Fun?_ "

Curly smiled slightly. "She's a good person, Raven. I wouldn't be here arguing her case if she weren't."

The Ravenclaw girl took another thoughtful sip of her mug. Then she set it aside and stood up. "Fine. If she's so desperate, I'll give her a few tips."

Curly felt his whole face brighten up. "Really?"

She threw him a look over her shoulder. Her mouth stretched into a faint smirk. "Really." The she turned forward and started to walk away. "I'll give her one hour, tops. Oh, and Alister invited me for Christmas, too. See you at your place in two weeks."

* * *

-O-

Almost immediately, Curly had run to Larry in Greenhouse Two and told him the good news. Larry came away from the giant pot he was working on and took off the dirt-covered dragon skin gloves, congratulating him, though he still seemed unsure of the success of this quest.

The two made their way into the castle and found Moe and Rose hunched over a notebook, surrounded by the tall walls of books and the serene silence of the Library. As the they approached, Rose sighed deeply and rubbed her temples.

"Where exactly did I lose you?" Moe was saying. "I'll go over it again."

She scanned the numbers on the right page of the notebook and stuck her finger on the bottom. "Here. 2 + 0 + 11?"

"No, no," he said quickly. "2 + 0 + 1 + 1. Then the brackets, and you add it all together."

"But… but shouldn't that be an eleven? Why is it two ones?"

"It's breaking down the year, Rose."

"But the year is two thousand and eleven. Why isn't it two numbers instead? 2000 + 11?"

"It's just how Arithmancy works. Every number contained within the year is taken as its individual value and then it's added up to create a new number, which is then used with the other numbers created by breaking down other dates in the final equation."

Rose let out a soft groan as Curly and Larry sat down at the table. "But why must it be so complicated?"

"Arithmancy is going well, I see," Larry quipped.

Rose dropped her face in her palms. "It's… not my strongest subject," she admitted.

"You'll get there," Curly said reassuringly, gently gripping her shoulder. Rose peeked at him over her fingers and smiled slightly.

"It's not that hard once you get the hang of it," Moe said. "You just have to break a date down to its basic components. Like Alchemy."

"Alchemy is not nearly this tedious," Rose replied, eyes returning to scan the neat columns of numbers.

Out of nowhere someone crashed into the seat between her and Curly, forcing him to retract his hand.

"That's because Alchemy has EXPLOSIONS!" Rhett Hart announced excitedly, earning a few shushes from the other people in the Library. He grinned unrepentantly at them, and Rose chuckled quietly in her hand. Dialling down the zeal somewhat, he pulled her notebook closer and his green eyes scanned the pages. "Really, Blondie? There's a massive snowball fight outside and you're in here, studying _this_?"

"I'm always in here on Friday afternoons," Rose said, gently drawing the notebook back to its old place between her and Moe. "Moe tutors me."

"Just the two of you, alone, for hours at a time?" Rhett cocked one eyebrow up, giving Rose a teasing smirk. "You know, when I asked if he's a contender for your heart, I was kidding."

Moe's face instantly turned bright red, but Rose simply said, "We're just studying, Rhett."

"Speaking of studying," Curly said, "Rose, I wanted to talk to you about—"

"Oh, right," Rhett cut in, turning fully to face her. "I hunted you down to ask you something. There is this insane rumour going around that you turned Husniya's head into a pumpkin."

Rose looked down. To a casual observer it might have seemed like she was embarrassed, but Curly didn't miss the way her fingers tightened around her quill and how quickly she erased any emotion from her face, leaving it politely blank. In Rose-speak, that was a huge red flag.

"To which I said," Rhett continued, utterly oblivious, "there's no way my poised, uptight, overly formal choir buddy would do a thing like that." He squinted, bending over to get a better glimpse at her face. "Would she?"

"She did," Curly cut in, grinning proudly. "And it was awesome! Everyone in the class saw it. And then Croft's desk exploded, and—"

He retold the whole thing, but Rhett seemed to have stopped listening, looking at Rose as if he was seeing her for the first time. "Wow," he said quietly. "Colour me intrigued."

There was something about the way he looked at her that didn't sit well with Curly, although he couldn't pinpoint what exactly made him feel this way. It reminded him of the way a cat watches a mouse.

Rhett's intensity melted away and was quickly replaced by an easy smile. "Never thought you had such a feisty side to you, Blondie. Let me walk you to your next class and you can tell me all about it."

Moe's eyes darted between Rose and Curly. "Can't!" he blurted out suddenly, surging to his feet. "You, uh, QUIDDITCH!"

Everyone at the table stared at him, baffled.

Larry shot him a quick look. "You mean that there's a meeting Max called for?" he said calmly.

Moe grinned radiantly at his friend. "Y-yes! That one!" He grabbed his bag, ignoring the books that spilled from it, and pulled Rhett's robes. "We gotta go. Now."

Curly immediately bent down to retrieve Moe's things, while Rhett, looking thoroughly bewildered, was dragged to his feet.

"I didn't know there was a team meeting," Rhett managed to say.

"Last minute," Moe replied curtly, and the two Gryffindors disappeared between the shelves.

"Well." Curly stared after them, a pile of Moe's books in his arms. "That was weird."

"Nothing weird about two quidditch players going to quidditch practice," Larry said casually, taking a few of the volumes and stuffing them in his bag.

"They weren't going to practice," Rose noted. "Moe said it was a meeting."

"Probably to discuss strategy," Larry said smoothly. "But getting back to the studying topic — Rose, have you done the Human Transfiguration essay?"

Rose and Curly exchanged a glance.

"No, I have not," she said. "That essay isn't due until next week."

"Well, no time like the present," Larry said. "We don't have any more classes today, might as well do some studying in the afternoon. With N.E.W.T.s approaching and all that."

"I suppose that's true," Rose said. "Did you want to work on it together?"

"Oh, I have already completed it," Larry said. Smirking, he added, "Curly, however, has not."

Rose and Curly looked at each other, once again completely confused.

"Because it's not due for another week," Curly said.

"You had better get it done then," Larry said. "Wouldn't want to procrastinate."

Curly was about to say that he was all for procrastination, actually, and they could spend the day better by joining that snowball fight outside. Before he could say so, though, Rose turned to him.

"Erm..." she said, "do you want to work on the essay with me, then?"

The request caught him off-guard, and before he knew it, his head was nodding in agreement. "Sure."

Larry grinned. "Excellent." Then he stood up, taking the rest of Moe's books.

"You off somewhere?" Curly asked.

"Indeed. I must write to my parents." Larry adjusted the load in his arms. "And bring Moe his textbooks."

"Moe is in a quidditch meeting," Rose reminded him.

"I'll drop them off at his Lab," Larry said quickly, already walking away.

Rose and Curly watched him disappear down the aisle.

"It could be because I have very limited experience with social interactions," Rose said. "But Larry's behaviour struck me as odd."

"Yep," Curly agreed. "It was." Then he shrugged and turned forward again. "Meh. Want to get started?"

Rose nodded, took out her Transfiguration textbook and placed it between them. Curly moved his chair closer.

"Hey," he said, leaning an elbow on the table. "I've been meaning to talk to you. About last week."

"Oh?" Rose tucked a stray lock of hair behind her ear, eyes glued to the text. Her voice was neutral, her posture straight, and he knew again that he was treading dangerous waters. One wrong word could send her straight into her shell.

Keeping his voice as soft as possible, Curly ventured, "Could you maybe use some help in Charms?" She looked at him, surprised, and he seized the moment. "Say, from a fellow Ravenclaw? A seventh year?"

Rose frowned slightly, confused by his words. "What are you talking about?"

"Raven," he said, adding swiftly, "If she agreed to help you then she'll get to know you, and if she gets to know you she'll see the real you and stop bullying you."

Rose blinked at him a few times before looking down at the book again. To his relief, she seemed thoughtful rather than tense, which was a good sign.

"If she's the one helping you," he added cautiously, "it would help her see that you don't consider yourself above her. Make her feel competent, in control. Open to a real conversation."

"I don't know, Curly..." Rose said, still not looking at him. "Why would she even agree to such a thing?"

"Let me worry about that," he said quickly. "But would you?"

"I..." Her blue eyes finally met his, hesitant and uncertain. "She doesn't like me, Curly. This won't work."

"Yes, it will," he insisted.

She sighed. "Listen to me. I'm not… like you. I'm not charming and easy to talk to, and I'm not outgoing or fun. Spending time alone with Raven will only make things worse."

He stared at her in silence. It was a real mystery to him how someone can have such a commanding presence when they needed to and at the same time such an abysmally low self esteem.

"You're not like me," Curly said slowly. "You're like _you_. There's more to you than the perfect pureblood prefect. If Raven could see that, if she could see _you_ , she'll drop her baseless grudge."

Rose shook her head with another sigh, eyes wandering away from him again.

"You don't believe me," he said flatly, trying not to sound as irritated as he was by this. They've had this argument before. The 'I'm just a doll' argument. Every time he'd say the exact same thing, and every time she'd shake her head. Rose had the annoying habit of not accepting compliments.

Her eyes darted to him again, even if it was just for a second. "I appreciate what you're trying to do, I really do, but—"

"Just… give it a try," he interrupted. His voice turned soft, pleading. "One afternoon. Please?"

She finally held his gaze and, after a few moments, gave in and cracked the tiniest of smiles. "Okay."


	14. Chapter 14

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 14**

Curly tried to keep the snickering to a minimum, but it was hard enough to stop himself from bouncing on his heels.

"Okay," he whispered to Larry. "You ready?"

The other teen grinned, raising his wand. "Whenever you are."

The two of them executed an identical motion through the air. The giant snowballs piled in the corridor-already enchanted by Moe with a no-melt spell-rearranged themselves by size, forming into several dozen snowmen. The various junk the boys had collected was already decorating the smaller ones, intended to be the top halves of the snowmen, so now they had themselves an army of aggressively festive singing machines. Well. As soon as they enchanted them to sing.

"Is the coast still clear?" Larry asked.

Curly snuck a peak around the corner. Moe, who was still standing guard, gave him the thumbs up.

"Clear," the Hufflepuff said.

Larry twisted his wand. A few of the snowmen did a practice glide around the corridor, leaving a shiny trail of ice. " _Parfait_ ," he said. "All we need to do is the last-"

"CHUPACABRA!"

The two teens jumped, startled by the codeword. They exchanged a quick glance and carefully peaked around the corner. Curly swore under his breath.

Right in the middle of the hallway, Moe was talking to a girl. A very familiar, blonde girl.

"What?" Rose was saying, while Moe shifted nervously from foot to foot. "Chupacabras prefer more tropical climates. Are you all right?"

"Um-ye-yea-su-su-sure, I'm-I'm fine?" Moe's voice cracked at the end. He coughed, trying to cover his anxiety. "Ju-just waiting for-for… uh..."

"Curly and Larry? Isn't that them over there?" Rose supplied helpfully, gesturing to their corner. The two boys exchanged panicked looks, but neither executed the Confundus Discovery Maneuver. "What are you two doing?"

Curly hid the wand behind his back, flashing her his most charming smile. "Nothing! Just…. inspecting the corridors. For, ah-"

"For safety hazards," Larry added smoothly.

She came closer, eyes widening at the dancing snowmen behind them, who were turning the corridor into an icy cave. Immediately, her gaze narrowed into a glare. "Safety hazards?" Rose repeated, her voice cold and steady. "You seem to have missed the dancing snowmen."

"Oh, those? They, uh..." Curly's mind was working on double time, but he was an abysmal liar. "We just came across them now?"

"Indeed," Larry said, calm as ever. "We were just about to break the enchantment, in fact."

"Is that right?" Rose raised her wand. " _Specialis Revelio._ " The snowmen glowed blue, connected by two light trails to the wands of the two boys. "You were planning on releasing these monstrosities into the Great Hall, weren't you."

"Just for a little bit," Curly fessed up, trying his best to placate her. "To add to the holiday mood!"

"Holiday mood?" Rose put her hands on her waist, and Curly seriously had to try super hard not to laugh. "Slipping on ice is your idea of 'holiday mood'?"

Curly was absolutely failing to keep in his amusement. "Sure," he said with a wide grin, crossing his arms in the hope of hiding the barely contained laughter. "I mean, who doesn't like ice skating?"

"And those of us who can't skate?" Rose said flatly, quirking up an eyebrow.

Her expression sent him over the edge, and Curly couldn't resist it anymore — he had to laugh. It was hard to pinpoint why Rose had that effect on him; he didn't think anyone else was this funny when they were mad. "I could teach you?" Curly offered, grinning. "I mean, I'm not like an expert or anything, but I'm confident I can at least make sure you don't fall on your butt."

Her nostrils flared dangerously. "Fifty points from Hufflepuff."

"Fifty? Rose don't you think—" Larry began, but she cut him right off.

"And fifty from Ravenclaw." Her glare shifted to him. "You are a prefect, Larry, why do you keep enabling him?"

"A-a-actually, it-it-it-it was m-my idea," came Moe's strangled voice from behind her. He seemed to almost shrink as soon as he said it.

"I didn't see a smoking wand in your hand," Rose replied over her shoulder.

"Bu-but it was still me. I shou—I should be punished too," Moe said, this time with more confidence.

"You didn't directly do anything," she said stubbornly.

Curly tried to hide a snicker into his fist, dusguising it as a cough. Not at his friend possibly getting in trouble—of course he wouldn't want that—but at the blatant favouritism. Rose would argue with him or Larry until the cows came home, but she couldn't muster as much as a frown at Moe.

"And stop laughing!" Rose snapped, turning her glare on him, which of course only made him want to laugh more. Why, oh why, did he think she was so cute when she was mad like this?

Curly put on his best serious face. "You're right. It's not funny. I should absolutely stop laughing." Except that _her foot was tapping_. He lost all control, letting out a loud snort, then dissolving immediately into an uproarious laughter, so hard that he had to lean on Larry for support.

"Ugh, you are _incorrigible_!" Light flashed, and suddenly Curly found himself upside down, hanging by his ankle.

"Rose, come on," he said, in-between strangled guffaws, "it was just some icy fun."

"Just some _icy fun_?" If glares could kill, he'd be a pile of minced meat. "Not only were you planning on a dangerous prank," Rose said, wand poking him in the chest, "but you also lied to me about it to my face! And then laughed about it!"

He winced at the word 'lie'. The manic laughter died down to a smile. "Hey, whoa, that's not—" Curly wobbled a bit, as if that would stop the blood rushing to his head. "I didn't mean… I mean, I meant to laugh, but, it's just, you're funny when you're mad, and..." He let out another stangled laugh. "I'm sorry. Didn't mean to lie, you caught us with our pants down."

Rose did not seem amused _at all_. She poked him in the chest so hard it caused him to swing back and forth. "Detention, Curran. Until the end of the semester."

"Rose, look, I'm sorry!" Curly called after her as she turned around and marched down the corridor. The use of his full name was probably a red flag, but he was sure she wasn't for-real-mad. It would help if he could just manage a more coherent apology. Hell, it would help if he could just stop _laughing_. "Rose!"

She didn't turn back.

* * *

-O-

This was going to be a disaster.

Rose could just feel it in her gut as she stood outside the classroom where her study session with Raven was supposed to take place. Curly was sweet to have set this up, but she just couldn't shake the feeling it would go up in flames. Raven was supposedly rather good with curses…

The fingers of her right hand slipped into an inside pocket of her robes and wrapped around a warm vial. It seemed to pulse under her skin, promising to smooth this encounter, to give her focus, composure. Rose swallowed hard. The temptation was impossibly strong. Just one sip… a little bit wouldn't hurt… just enough to keep her calm.

Rose let go of the vial as if it had burned her, and pulled her hand away. No, no, she had to find another way. A better way.

Pushing down on her fraying nerves, the young witch opened the door. To her relief, the classroom was empty. Rose checked the watch sewn onto her school bag — she was a little bit early. The bare room seemed bigger than usual when it wasn't filled with students and noise. She slipped inside and set up her textbooks.

Since there was some time to kill, Rose figured it might be a good idea to brush up on her notes from the last Charms class and took them out, through her eyes glazed over the contents. She could still somehow feel the vial in her pocket, weighing her down like it was full of lead. After Larry had smashed her potion down beneath the school, Rose hadn't taken a single dose. She'd gone back to her dorm and vanished the other vials, but this one, this last one, she saved. _For emergencies_ , was what she told herself at the time. But with a courage potion in your pocket, everything seems like an emergency. A test she hadn't studied properly for. Whispers down an empty corridor. A meeting with a hostile girl. This potion could take her to a place where none of it was scary, it could make all those bad feelings go away.

Larry was wrong about her when he called her brave. He'd always been wrong. He thought Rose was someone better than she actually was, someone sharper, braver, kinder. But she wasn't. She knew that, and yet, she wanted to be all of these things, she _wanted_ to be this person he thought she was. She didn't want to fail him.

The door opened, and Rose looked up as Raven entered the classroom.

"Good, you're here," the older girl said without much preamble and sat down next to Rose. "I told Fitzherbert I'd give you an hour, so let's get down to the chase. What are you having problems with?"

"Erm..." Rose stared back, wide-eyed, not sure how to respond. "Well, I… I'm having trouble with curses?"

Raven frowned. "That's more Defence. I thought this was about Charms?"

"It is, yes, but I thought... " Rose tried not to shrink under the other girl's glare. "I have more than one area I'm lacking in, and curses is the worst. I know you're good at those, or at least that's—"

"That's what people say?" Raven huffed, evidently annoyed. "Yeah, I guess people do tend to talk, and the weak-minded tend to listen. Fine, curses it is." She stood. "Get up, then. Books aren't gonna help you with a curse — practice will."

Rose was vaguely starting to regret shifting the focus of this exercise, but it was too late to back up now.

"I can tell you right now why curses aren't working for you," Raven said, taking out her wand. "You aren't focused."

"I am focused," Rose countered, facing her, wand in hand.

"If you were, we wouldn't be here. Curses are Dark Magic by default. Dark Magic won't work for you unless you want it." Raven pointed to Rose's Charms book, which still lay open on the desk. "Go on, then. Let me see what you've got. Try something simple, like a Flagrante Curse."

Rose scrunched up her nose. "You want me to set my own book on fire?"

Raven rolled her eyes. "Aguamenti is a charm, Princess. I sure hope you're able to at least do that. If not..." A smirk pulled at the corner of her mouth. "Well, it will help you practice two types of spells, wouldn't it."

Rose gripped the wand tighter. Whether she succeeded or she failed, this was going to end badly. Not that she was about to tell Raven of all people that she was aquaphobic. Still, though her wand was pointed at the book, she hesitated.

Raven seemed to be losing patience. "Come _on_ , Princess, I'm not asking you to use the Killing Curse, I just want you to set something on fire!"

This still wasn't very encouraging. Dark Magic was something she'd had way too much of, and it certainly didn't come easily to her.

A frustrated sigh came from Raven. "Dark Magic isn't evil. It's just another type of magic. There are plenty of Charms that are just as nasty as Hexes and Curses, but they're just tools for the witch or wizard to use. Very useful tools. You just have to want to use it."

"Well that might be a problem, because I don't want to burn my own possessions," Rose said coldly. No, she didn't want to use Dark Magic, she didn't even want to learn it.

"Merlin, you are such a brat," Raven muttered. Then she took off a silver cuff from her wrist and set it on the table. "There, just use the curse on this. It's metal, so it'll heat up instead of catching fire."

Rose was genuinely surprised at this gesture, so for the next twenty minutes she tried her best to put her whole will into the curse. Raven wouldn't relent, insisting that they try again, and again and again, never content wil how warm the cuff got. As hard as Rose tried, it never reached red-hot levels, and Raven's brand of motivation included more mocking than encouragement. When she could no longer stand, panting with exhaustion, Rose requested a break, and Raven begrudgingly agreed.

"You know, Swan Princess, one day you're gonna want to warm up your tea, and you'll have to settle for cold leaf juice," Raven quipped as the two sat at the desk, playing with her cuff. "So, what's Fitzherbert up to?"

"Detention," Rose said, rotating her sore wrist. Irritation at the incident earlier today found its way into her voice as she elaborated, "He got on my nerves again. I keep telling him to stop breaking the rules, but does he listen?"

Whatever hints of a smile had been dancing across Raven's face evaporated in an instant. " _You_ gave him the detention? What for, breathing improperly?"

Rose huffed in annoyance. "He was making dancing snowmen that turn the floor to ice. Would have let them loose in the Great Hall if I hadn't caught him and Larry in the act."

"Seriously?" The wand in Raven's hand rained red sparks, startling Rose. "You'd turn your own friends in for a harmless prank? The two guys that fucking defended you?"

Rose leaned back, starting to get a little scared. Raven looked like she might curse her any second now. "Well, they broke the rules and they can't expect to get away with—"

Chair legs screeched against the floor as Raven stood up and marched right to the door. When her hand was on the handle, she threw over her shoulder, "You don't deserve him."

Rose blinked, taken aback. "I… what?"

"To think that Curly _actually_ talked me into giving you a chance. I get treating other people like shit, but for your own friends I thought you'd at least have some loyalty. I don't know what he sees in you, but I hope his eyes get open real fucking soon, because he deserves so much better."

And with that, Raven left the room without so much as a look back. Rose stared after her, blinking away tears.

* * *

-O-

Slowly, Rose climbed the dark staircase to the Ravenclaw dormitory. The school bag felt heavier than ever on her shoulder, but her thoughts were really what was weighing her down. Part of her wanted to stand up, rebel against Raven's insinuations and say 'You don't know anything about me!'. But another part, a much bigger and quieter one, whispered in her ear that she was right. Rose didn't deserve Curly. She didn't deserve any of them.

In front of the darkwood door, Rose stopped for a moment and reached for the handle in an almost trance-like state. Her fingers were just about to turn it when laughter sounded from inside.

"Anyway, Friday work for everyone?"

"What about Rose? Would we tell her?"

"Ugh. Who wants _her_ at a party? Best case scenario she supports the wall in the corner, worst case she gets us busted and ruins it for everyone."

"Lay off. She's not that bad."

"Look, Elise, I get that Cat has taken her under her wing or whatever, but that's her choice. You've gotta admit, the girl is a stuck up bitch. We've been rooming with her for six years now; that's plenty of time to get to know her. You remember third year? We asked her to Hogsmeade with us, and she flat out said her studies are more important than people."

"Well, she's changed," Elise insisted. "If Cat's friends with her, I'm sure there's something under that icy shell. And hey, she's made other friends too."

"Pft. Curly is friends with everybody, and North and Desrosiers only hang around her because he does."

Rose's stiff fingers slipped from the handle.

"It's really her fault that she never made friends here. We've tried, but you know. Rose is hard to like."

Rose took a step back. The school bag slipped from her shoulder, and feeling her way in the darkness, she turned around and walked away.

* * *

-O-

Flames danced merrily inside the kitchen fireplace, but Rose stared right through them. The room was empty and silent. The last house elf had made the fire for her before going to bed, and that was… some time ago. The first hesitant sun rays streamed in through the window, but lost in thought, she hadn't really kept track of time. So, when someone entered through the painting, she felt panic shoot through her.

"Rose?"

The young witch stood and turned around, startled to find… Curly.

"Hey," he said, smiling brightly as he approached her. "Whatcha doing here so early?"

"Erm..." She looked away. "N-Nothing, I just…" Her hand made a weak motion around the room. "I felt like coming here."

He stopped in his tracks, finally noticing that something about her was off. "Is everything okay?" Rose looked down. "Wait..." He squinted suspiciously. "Did you spend the night here?" Rose didn't say anything, but that was enough for for him; he closed the distance between them in two wide strides and gently took her hand in his. "Do you want to tell me about it?"

Rose felt her throat tighten with emotion. She shook her head, chancing a look at him.

He blew up his cheeks, letting the air out as his free hand rubbed the back of his neck, frustrated that she wouldn't tell him. "Okay, uh… do you want some breakfast? I was gonna do banana muffins, but if you feel like something else..."

"Muffins sound wonderful." Rose managed a weak smile.

He smiled back, drawing her to the corner of the kitchen, where a clean hotplate gleamed above an often used oven. A bright yellow apron was hanging from a nail on the wall next to it.

"You mind getting that for me?" Curly asked, taking ingredients out of the pantry.

She nodded and took it off the nail. It had the words 'Mr Good Lookin is Cookin' in black letters on the front, and just the sight of that lifted her spirits a little.

"You wear this?" she said, handing it to him.

Curly put it on and tied the strings at the back, huffing a laugh. "I like it! Plus, it helps with oil burns."

Rose watched him crack a few eggs with practiced ease, then add flour, sugar and vanilla in various measurements into a separate bowl and mix them together. She couldn't help but be a little amazed at how he moved when he cooked, even when he was doing something as simple as stirring. No, not stirring — whisking. Rose was only vaguely aware of the difference. She just leaned against the wall, watching him, occasionally chuckling when he did something particularly silly, like juggling with the bananas before adding them to the mix. He kept talking all the while, telling her the story of when he first tried this recipe with his Uncle Waldo, who was a chef in some sort of pub. While the muffins were in the oven, he made them some hot chocolate, and once everything was ready, they sat together at one of the tables, a plate with fresh muffins in front of them.

"So then there were pink rats _everywhere_ ," Curly said, taking a sip from his drink.

Rose managed a tiny smile as she silently wrapped her hands around the warm mug. _There_ , she told herself. _At least one person likes me. And he made me breakfast_. Why did someone like him like her? He was popular and fun and kind… he was nothing like her. Well, she did know the answer to that — he was her friend because he thought she could use one.

Rose took a bite from her muffin, and it tasted so good it nearly brought her to tears. "Curly," she said, her throat tight again. "Am I hard to like?"

"Nah." He bit into a muffin. "I like you." But he liked everyone. Rose cupped her mug with both hands as he paused to chew, throwing her a look. "And Larry and Moe like you. And Cat. And Max." Reluctantly, he added, "And that Gryffindor Chaser, Rhett."

Rose thought about how she ought to word her thoughts. "Do you think… do Moe and Larry only give me the time of day because of you? Did you... tell them to talk to me?"

Curly put the muffin away, finally growing somewhat serious. "Hey listen, I don't control what Moe and Larry do. I might have mentioned you to them, sure, but I didn't tell them to follow us into the woods last Halloween."

"They did that for you."

"They did that for both of us. And, heh… as good as I am at convincing people, no one can make Larry do something he doesn't want to do. And Moe… I'm gonna be honest here, I've never seen him this relaxed around a girl."

She let out a weak laugh. "You call that relaxed?"

He laughed too. "As weird as it sounds, yeah. I don't know where the whole parchment writing thing came from, but it's genius!"

"Oh, that..." Rose smiled fondly at her hot chocolate. "He had one of his freak outs, and I was starting to get really scared. It was the first time I'd seen him like that — muttering to himself and just rocking back and forth; I thought something really bad was happening with him. We'd been talking about languages, so I suppose he decided to write out his thoughts to explain, since he couldn't get the words out, and I just… wrote below him. Afterwards whenever his stutter became too much, we'd just write. Seemed to make it easier on him."

Curly nodded, taking his own mug in both hands. "Yeah. Wish I'd thought of that. Really seems to help."

"Hmm..." Rose considered his words. As insecure as she felt right now, Curly was making sense. Larry could not be forced into anything, least of all human interaction. He had an amusing story of his eighth birthday that he'd told her once, about locking himself in the bathroom and refusing to come out for his own party. And she had to admit that Moe had softened up around her in the past year. She'd spent plenty of time around the both of them without Curly, and it never seemed to be an issue. At the end of the day, she had a lot of common with them. In truth… Curly was the one that was her polar opposite. Warm where she was cold, fun where she was serious, open where she was distant.

"And us?" she said quietly. "We're friends, aren't we?"

He just stared at her in surprise. "What are you talking about? Of course we're friends! You're not still mad at me about the snowmen, are you?"

She huffed a sad laugh. "No, I'm not mad. I just… wanted to make sure."

Curly put his mug away. "Rose, is this about whatever happened last night? I won't push it if you really don't wanna talk about it, but… If you do, I'm… I'm here." He placed a tentative hand on her shoulder, and it was the last straw.

"Then," Rose said, blinking away tears, "can I ask for a Curly Hug?"

"Heh. Of course you can." His arms spread wide. "The supply is kind of infinite."

Rose sank into his embrace, and allowed herself to be vulnerable. The previous—and first—time that he'd offered her a 'Curly Hug' had been after that day in the Library, when he'd caught her having a nightmare about his death. Rose wasn't one for physical contact, and she'd never in her life asked to be hugged. But this felt... good. And so warm.

"I'm sorry I gave you detention," she muttered into his chest after a few minutes.

Curly's arms tightened around her. "It's okay. Our fault for getting caught anyway."

"I took the points for caching you," she admitted. "I gave you detention because you kept laughing." Rose squeezed him a little, afraid of the response. "Are you mad that I did?"

He leaned his cheek atop her head. "No, I'm not mad. I'm sorry I laughed, but Rose. _Your foot was tapping_. I was just so silly, and you had that face, and I couldn't help it."

"I'm a school prefect, Curly. I'm not supposed to be laughed at when I try to impose rules."

Something seemed to dawn on him, and he straightened up a bit. "You don't think that I… that I don't take you seriously, do you?"

Rose was quiet for a moment. "It did kind of feel that way."

Curly groaned into her hair. "I'm such an idiot. I _swear_ that's not what it was. I do respect you as a prefect, and so do Moe and Larry — if anyone else had caught us they'd be walking around thinking it's last Tuesday right now. But neither of us even raised a wand when we saw it was you, and yeah, we tried to argue the punishment, but we would have put up a lot more of a fight with someone else. And to be honest, if we weren't as close as we are, I don't think I would have laughed."

There was a long pause, and then, just like that, Rose said, "I believe you."

They stayed in the hug for a little while longer. Not talking, just… breathing. His apron smelled of banana muffins.

"I wish I were a better friend," Rose said quietly. "I just don't know how. The three of you have changed my life for the better in a million different ways, but I'm so flawed, and I make mistakes, and I'm cold and hard to like..."

Curly pulled back gently, just enough to be able to look at her. "Hey, you think the three of us are perfect? We're the morons that let loose a bear near a summer camp, remember? We need someone like you to reign us in. And you're _not_ cold. Or hard to like. Where did that nonsense even come from?"

Rose looked down. "Raven."

Curly's jaw fell slack for a moment, before he facepalmed, hard. "Fuck."

"It's not your fault," she said gently, placing a hand on his arm. "I appreciate what you were trying to do, but some people just don't get along, and that's me and Raven." A slight smile pulled at the corner of her mouth. "She seems to have warmed up to you, though, so it wasn't a total loss."

Curly brought both hands to his face and groaned. "She wasn't supposed to warm up to _me_ , she was supposed to warm up to _you_!" Pulling his hands down, he looked at her and said, "She told you you're hard to like?"

Rose looked away. "No. She just said that I don't deserve you. The other thing… I overheard some of my dormmates talking about me on the way back to the dorm. I don't know why it upset me so much, to be honest. They're right."

" _No_." He took her hands in his. "No, they _aren't_. Rose, they just… they don't know you like we do."

"And whose fault is that?" she returned. "Curly, do you remember when we first started talking? After the West Tower?" He gave her a nod. "Well…" She sighed. "You probably have no idea what it was like for me at the beginning. At first, I wondered why you kept talking to me. People don't usually… approach me. Or when they do, they try for a few minutes and then give up. But you were just _relentless_. Every time you saw me, you came right over and started a conversation about the most random, inconsequential things, and after a while I started to enjoy that. Even kind of… look forward to it? And sometimes, I would see you in class, and you'd be talking to someone else, or you'd be doing something, waiting around for the lesson to start, and I would think 'Why isn't he talking to me today?'. It was such a strange thought, because you didn't _have_ to talk to me. And I knew that if I just reached out, if I tapped your shoulder or even said hi, you would turn around and you'd say hi back. But I just… couldn't." Her hands squeezed his. "I know what you're going to say: I should have just done that. I should have indicted in some way, any way, that I wanted you to keep talking, that I wanted you to lift your head from that textbook and see me. I don't know why I never did. If I'd only taken the first step, even if it was a tiny one, I knew you would walk the rest of the distance. But. I. Just. Couldn't."

She risked a look at him. His hazel eyes were warm and sad, but he didn't say anything.

"To be honest, for a minute there I was afraid you would stop," she admitted, barely above a whisper. "And if you had walked away, it would have been my fault. Because I never said that I wanted you to stay."

For a long moment, Curly was silent. "I wouldn't have," he said finally, his thumbs caressing her hands. "Stopped talking to you, I mean. Even if you never said anything."

"I know," she said. "But, Curly, other people aren't like you. I can't breach that barrier alone, and not very many people are willing to try."

A slight smile made its way to his face, and he said, "You're worth the effort."

Rose sank back into his arms, and he immediately responded, embracing her. This was why he meant so much to her — he was the first person to have made the effort. No matter how tall the walls around her were, no matter how much she wished she could take them down, he'd managed to climb over pretty much on his own, opening the way for Larry, then Moe, and eventually Cat. Rose cherished each and every one of her few friendships, but it was a simple fact that had she not met Curly, likely none of those other friendships would exist.

After a few more minutes, he reached over to the table. "Muffin?"

She nodded, and he handed her one, taking another for himself.

"Don't get crumbs in my hair," Rose said.

"I won't," he mumbled with his mouth full, only to quickly add, "Aw shit," and try to flick away the crumbs that rained on her.

Rose giggled and hugged him tighter. "It's okay. Just don't go anywhere."

His chest reverbated as he laughed. "Wasn't planning on it."


	15. Chapter 15

.

* * *

-O-

 **CHAPTER 15**

Curly wiggled his fingers over the messily arranged hand of cards, muling over his choice.

"Get on with it!" Larry snapped from his side.

Curly gave him an apologetic smile, trying not to laugh at the disastrous turn his friends' first game of Uno was taking. Moe's face was a mask of pure concentration. A sharp wrinkle had appeared between Rose's eyebrows, which tended to happen whenever her mind was hard at work on a problem she couldn't solve. Larry was getting grumpier by each wild card and sudden change of rules, and Curly figured that the only reason he wasn't hanging upside down from some plant right now was that the Hogwarts Express compartment was too cramped for his friend's usual brand of revenge.

The train swayed gently as it chugged along, making Curly a little dizzy the more the stared at the cards, but a choice had to be made. He decided not to ruffle any feathers—further than he already had—and play it safe.

"Red 9," Curly said, passing over his remaining Wild Card and casually flinging the red one to the pile floating between the seats.

Larry, keeping a blank poker face, left a red 3. One card in hand, he turned his eyes to Moe, whose face was just as intense as he silently added a green 3. Rose smiled slightly and played a green 6.

Curly, who felt very much like he was about to poke an angry beast with a pointy stick, said, "Uh, you forgot to say Uno, Larry. Now you've gotta draw two cards. Oh, and by the way." He held up the Wild Card. "Wild Draw 4. I guess that means you've gotta draw six, then." Larry's death glare finally pushed him over the edge, and Curly erupted in peals of laughter as his friend raised a hand to chuck the whole deck at his head.

The door of the compartment slid open, and he was saved from Larry's wrath by the arrival of two blonde girls.

"Hi Tams," Curly said, straightening up from his ducking position. Tamsin Little, the shy Hufflepuff prefect, gave him a small wave. Turning a grin to her companion, he added, "Hey Vic. If you're on the hunt for Teddy, he's not here."

Victoire Weasley let out a cheerful laugh, flipping the long, blonde curtain of hair behind her shoulder. "I'm on the hunt alright, but not for my wayward boyfriend." She turned to Moe. "I've seen you around the common room with a camera sometimes. Tamsin here says you know how to use it."

Moe's face instantly turned beet red, and he shifted in his seat, as if he could somehow hide his bulk behind the floating card pile.

"He certainly can. Moe is quite the prolific photographer," Larry said, flashing the girls a charming smile.

"Hell yeah," Curly jumped in, and the two shared a conspiratory look. There was an unspoken agreement between them that they talk Moe up to any and all girls, especially the pretty ones, seeing as he could barely get a word out around them. "Moe knows all about angles and lighting and all that stuff. If you need some pictures taken, he's your guy!"

"Ah," Victoire said, her tone teasing, "but 'prolific' isn't the same as 'good', is it?"

"He is very good," Rose chimed in. "I've seen his portfolio. His shots always have nice compositions and look very crisp and professional."

Moe was the colour of a fire hydrant. Curly kind of worried he might pop a vein or something.

"Well then, if he's such an amazing photographer, maybe he'll consider joining our new club?" Victoire said, directing a questioning look at Moe.

"C-C-Club?" he managed to stutter.

"Yes," Tamsin said. "Professor Smith gave us permission just before boarding the train… We have a compartment a little down the hall where the founding members are discussing how it's going to operate, if you want to… come and hear us out?"

"What sort of club is it?" Larry asked.

Tamsin gave him a slight smile. "It's a student newspaper, actually. We're calling it _The Puffington Post_."

"The _what_?" Curly doubled over, laughing, and Moe, even with all his embarrassment, was shaking in a snort. Larry and Rose exchanged a confused look, which just made the whole thing funnier.

The corner of Victoire's mouth quirked up. "It's just to assign jobs for everyone and work out when and where we'll meet," she clarified. "Won't take more than an hour, probably. So, you in?"

Moe started twisting a part of his shirt hem, avoiding eye contact. "Oh, um—I-I, uh..."

"Of course he's in," Curly said quickly. "He'd love to get involved in photography stuff. Right, buddy?"

A longer string of incoherent sounds left Moe's throat, but he did nod.

"We'll be right here when you come back," Rose said, smiling encouragingly.

"Errrr, ye-yeah. Wo-won't be long, pro-probably." Moe stood up, but just as he was about to make a step toward the door, he stopped and rummaged in his pockets. "Um, he-here, this is the m-music thing I told you about. You can l-listen to it while I'm gone." He handed Rose an iPod and two cordless earbuds.

"Oh, thank you," Rose said, holding up her hand so that Moe can give them to her without them actually having to touch. She eyed one of the earbuds, then made to shove it in her ear. With the sharp end first.

"NO!" everyone shouted at once. Rose froze, staring at them with wide, startled eyes.

"The-the-the other way!" Moe said hastily, grasping her wrist before she could jam it in. The whole compartment breathed out a sigh of relief as he turned the earbuds over and just put them on her himself. "You start the music with these buttons," Moe explained, "and skip back and forth between songs with these. This one adjusts the volume." Realising how close he was to an actual, real-life girl, he went red in the face and quickly took a few steps back.

Rose smiled at him. "Thank you." Then her gaze dropped to the gadget, and the faint sounds of TLC's _Waterfalls_ echoed in the compartment when she pressed play.

Face even redder than before, Moe backed out the door with the other two girls as Curly and Larry shared a grin. Moe's flawless cover of the song, especially the rap portion, was pretty much the best thing ever.

The two friends started another game while Rose moved closer to the window and stared out at the green landscape of Scotland as it passed by, with Fitz curled comfortably in her lap. After a few hands, Curly noticed that she'd dozed off. He stood, took his jacket and gently covered her with it, making sure to leave Fitz's yellow head poking out beneath the hem. Then he sat back in his seat and shuffled his cards a little, waiting for Larry to play his turn. When he didn't, Curly threw him a questioning look and saw that his friend was staring at the sleeping Rose thoughtfully.

"Do you remember," Larry said, his voice distant, "when in second year we saw those kids picking on Moe?"

The corner of Curly's mouth quirked up at the memory. "Yeah. They couldn't walk straight for a week." Jelly-Legs jinx, one of Curly's personal favourites. There's nothing funnier than watching bullies waddle around the castle like drunken ducks.

Curly knew why his friend's mind had jumped to such thoughts — his had too. But Moe hadn't been bullied for a few good years now, and he was physically pretty big at this point, not to mention excellent at silent spells. Curly very much doubted anyone would try anything in that club meeting; he trusted Moe to be able to take care of himself and Victoire to handle girls Moe wouldn't dare hex. The Gryffindor was old fashioned like that — utterly terrified of girls but also unwilling to raise his wand against one. And hey, he even got close enough to actually physically touch Rose! Curly's smile grew a little. Being friends with her was definitely helping Moe relax.

But Larry wasn't smiling. "Do you think… that she got picked on like that?"

Thoughts snapping back to the present like a rubber band, Curly followed Larry's gaze to the window seat, where Rose snuggled into his jacket. Slowly, he moved his eyes back to Larry, but just as he was about to answer, two silhouettes passed by their compartment. Curly put the cards down and shot to his feet.

"Be right back," he said to Larry, then scrambled out the door to catch up.

The couple walking along the narrow train corridor stopped as he called out to them.

"Hey Curly," Alister said, wrapping an arm around his girlfriend's shoulders.

"Hi," Curly said, but his eyes were on the girl. "Raven, can I talk to you for a minute?"

She scowled. "I'd really rather not."

Alister's eyes bounced between them. "Did something happen?"

Raven huffed, crossing her arms. "He wants to talk to me about his girlfriend. Look, you asked me to give her a shot, and I did. She's exactly who I thought she was — spoiled, stuck up and bitchy. How can you even defend her? She gave you detention right before Christmas break!"

Alister raised an eyebrow at the world 'girlfriend' and threw his cousin a look.

"Rose isn't my girlfriend," Curly said. "And I don't know what went on in that classroom, but she was really upset afterwards. What did you say to her?"

Raven huffed again. "Just the obvious. It took real guts for you to come to me and make her case the way you did, and she repaid you with a slap in the face! She's awful to you, and you can do so much better."

"She's not awful to me. You just… you don't have the whole story."

"I gotta agree," Alister chimed in. "Rose treating Curly badly? I don't think she could if she tried."

Raven shot him a glare. "And since when are _you_ so intimately familiar with her?"

Alister removed his arm, clearly flustering under his girlfriend's hostile glare. "I, uh, I drew for her once. On a basket! It was years ago!"

Her nostrils flared. "You drew for her, did you? What was the basket for, a picnic date or something?"

"What? No! She was just alone and I..." Alister threw Curly a panicked glance. "It was one time!"

"Alister Frost, if I find out that you've locked lips with that snake in the grass, I will dump you on the spot!" Raven said, poking him in the chest.

"I haven't!" he called after her as she whirled around and continued down the corridor. When she reached their compartment and got in, slamming the door behind her, he let out a heavy sigh. "Thanks for that, Curly. I've gotta go do damage control; see ya in a few days. "

"Yeah. See ya," Curly said as he watched his cousin walk away. How did this whole Raven thing end up backfiring so badly? He was sure that it would work…

Crestfallen, the young wizard returned to his compartment. The scene of Rose, still sleeping next to the window, formed a heavy ball of guilt in his stomach. Larry was probably right. She likely had been picked on, and she hadn't had them to look out for her then. She did now, but what good did it do her? What good did _he_ do her? What was he even good for if he couldn't help his friends?

Muttering something about having gone to the bathroom to Larry, Curly took his seat again and the two played a few more games. Moe joined them after an hour or so, sort of dizzily informing them that he was now the official photographer for _The Puffington Post_ , clearly stoked that he'd been specifically asked to fill the position. The news helped lift Curly's mood a little, and by the time the train pulled up to Kings Cross station, he had reached a decision. Maybe Rose and Raven couldn't get along, but he still had the whole of Christmas break to convince Raven to leave his friend alone; not to like Rose, but to tolerate her, and he would definitely explain that Rose wasn't mistreating him. It was important to him for some reason for that particular misconception to be cleared as soon as possible.

The station was already crowded when they got off the train — excited parents embraced tiny first years, cats meowed and owls hooted inside their cages, and confused teens of all years craned their necks, looking for their families. Curly, Larry, Moe and Rose got off onto the platform with little difficulty, having already enchanted their trunks with Feather-Light charms upon Rose's brilliant suggestion.

She tugged on Fitz's carrier to make sure it's secure, then straightened up and said to Curly, "You can have his back," handing him his jacket and putting on her own. "Thank you, by the way."

"Yeah, no problem," he said, slipping it on. Rose had this really nice rose-scented perfume, and it still lingered around the collar. It made him think of the colour pink.

Suddenly, a voice boomed over the crowd of students and parents.

"Step right up, step right up!"

Fred's dad, George Weasley, had brought a collapsible booth to pick up his son, and it had a giant, flashing sign that towered over people's heads. Both father and son stood behind it, passing colourful samples to the crowd that had quickly gathered around them.

"Weasley's Wizard Wheezes are proud to announce a new crop of holiday items! Since I love you guys, I've brought lots of free samples, so come and get some! Ideal for spicing up that awkward family meal, or to get back at that cousin or father-in-law you don't like!"

Curly's face lit up. "Come on!" He grabbed Moe, who grabbed Larry, who grabbed Rose, and the four friends waded into the crowd. Mr Weasley threw generous fistfuls of small items over people's heads, and Curly managed to swipe one out of the air.

"Looks like you missed your true calling as a Seeker," Larry quipped.

Curly chuckled and inspected his prize. The small square in his palm was something called Foul Mouth Fudge, and the tiny lettering on the wrapper explained that it made you swear like a surly sailor. Well, Rose liked to compare him to a stable boy when he cussed, but he supposed a sailor was close enough! For the tiniest moment, Curly was tempted to take a bite, if just to see her indignant reaction, but quickly thought better of it. She really didn't like it when he swore, and it would be more fun if he was alone with Larry and Moe and they shared the sweet.

Another wave of joke items flew up in the air, and just a few feet away Teddy Lupin caught one for himself. After a short chortle at the description, he unwrapped it and yelled, "Hey, Ling, catch!" throwing a blur of green to the Head Girl.

The item bounced atop her fiery head. "Ow! This thing has thorns; what the hell did you hit me with, Lupin?" She tried to wave the thing away with one hand, the other still holding that of her girlfriend, Taylor White.

"Ah!" Mr Weasley said. "That's our brand new Kiss Me Mistletoe! It'll pester you forever until someone rescues you with a kiss! Guaranteed to get you smooched. Eventually."

Liling grinned. "Well, good thing I have a knight in shiny armour to save me." She threw a mischievous look at Taylor—who blushed a brilliant pink—and scooped her up, bending her backwards into a romantic kiss.

The whole station applauded, and a few wolf whistles and laughs echoed from the crowd. The enchanted mistletoe leaped off Liling's head, and onto the nearest person — Alister. He threw Raven his best pleading puppy dog eyes—Curly should know, he taught him—as she gave him an icy stare. After a moment, she rolled her eyes, smirked, and stood up on her toes to give him a quick peck. The mistletoe bounced off his head and landed on… Moe. The laughter suddenly doubled.

Moe turned a deep shade of ruby and jumped up, trying to get rid of the mistletoe, which rose in the air to avoid his hand. In retaliation, it only attacked him with twice the ferocity.

"Aw come on, don't throw it on the autistic kid!" someone shouted from the crowd. "That's not fair; he's gonna be stuck with it forever!"

Some kids chortled nearby, and Curly clenched his jaw. Moe _was_ autistic, but he'd be damned if he let anyone start making fun of him for it again. Larry's eyes were also narrowed dangerously, but it was hard to pick out the purportator. Moe's head hung low in embarrassment and powerless frustration, fists trembling at his side as the mistletoe assaulted his head.

The only one that didn't seemed to be affected by the snickers was Rose. The picture of pureblood pride and poise, she held her chin high, back straight, and stepped closer to Moe. Standing up on her toes, Rose gently pressed her lips to his cheek. Moe's eyes snapped open; he was so shocked the shaking stopped. The whole crowd was staring, but neither seemed to notice.

"Not too bad for my first kiss," she said, smiling slightly, before backing away. Moe was staring at her like she'd grown a few extra heads. He seemed too surprised to even be embarrassed, like his brain was lagging with processing what had just happened. The mistletoe made to jump to the next head, but Rose caught it, crushing the small plant in her fist with a look of distaste. "That's enough of _that_ particular joke."

"I couldn't agree more!" Fred shouted from behind the stand and nudged his dad. "There's so many _other_ things you can give us your money for! Right, Dad?"

"Of course!" Mr Weasley jumped in immediately. "Take a look at our newest Holiday Spirit Candy Canes! Fred here will demonstrate what happens when you eat one. Go on, Fred."

Fred unwrapped a red-and-white striped candy cane and put in in his mouth. Almost instantly the stripes spread from the cane to his skin, turning him red and white like some sort of weird festive face paint. People oohed and aahed, turning their attention once again towards the booth.

"You know, if you just leave your things out in the open, someone's gonna steal them," a teasing voice came from behind them. Curly grinned and turned around to see his father leaning casually on the four friend's piled trunks. "If you're just gonna leave them wherever, I'm not gonna buy you nice things anymore," Dad continued, patting the top of Fitz's cage. The cat hissed fiercely from within, causing him to jump and physically recoil.

Curly laughed and went over to hug him. "Where's Mum? Isn't she with you?"

"Sorry, buddy, emergency at the clinic," Dad said, keeping an arm around his shoulders. "I see the whole gang's here. How was Hogwarts, guys?" Larry, Moe and Rose exchanged a look. The smile on his face slipped away, replaced by a more serious expression. "Uh, oh. Trouble?"

"I'll fill you in later," Curly said in a low voice.

Dad nodded, easing back into his lighter mood. "Oh, and this must be Rose! I haven't met you in person yet, but Curly yammers on about you constantly. I feel like I've already known you for a year."

Rose curtseyed. "Rose Waltz of the House of Waltz. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mr Fitzherbert."

Curly's dad shot him a quick, amused look, then took her hand and bowed in the most theatrical fashion possible, kissing it. "The pleasure is all mine! Now you can finally see where Curly gets his good looks." Curly crossed his arms and shook his head behind him, chuckling at his father's antics. "And his roguish charm, of course," Dad added, flashing Rose a charming smile. "I taught him everything he knows." He threw in a wink for good measure.

"You're humble as ever, Eugene." A woman in a white business suit approached their group, shooting him a playful glare.

Dad shrugged, grinning unrepentantly. "Hey, it's not bragging if it's true."

The woman rolled her eyes with a sigh, then drew Moe into a tender embrace.

"Mum, you're embarrassing me," he muttered, although Curly knew he was actually really happy to be hugged.

"I'm sorry, darling, you've been away too long," Ms North said, kissing his forehead. "A mother's heart can only take so much." Then she also turned to Rose, gracing her with a kind smile. "It's nice to meet you as well, Rose. Moses has spoken well of you."

Moe was turning red again. "Muuum..."

Ms North chuckled. "All right, all right, I'll rein in my parental curiosity. Come along, Moe, we have a train to catch. Say goodbye to your friends."

Moe got a hold of his trunk and waved. "B-bye, guys. Bye Rose."

"See ya in a week!" Curly said cheerfully as Larry returned the wave.

"Have a good Christmas," Rose added.

"Happy holidays, Eugene," Ms North said as she and Moe were leaving. "Give my best to Rapunzel."

"Will do. Have a good one, Glinda."

As the group watched the Norths walk away, Curly asked his dad, "How come you never rein in your parental curiosity?"

"Because I'm your dad, and it's my duty to be nosy and embarrass you. It's in the job description."

"Where's that written?"

"On a piece of paper at home. It's called your birth certificate."

The boys chuckled, and suddenly Larry facepalmed. " _Merde_ , I almost forgot!" He knelt down and rummaged through his trunk, emerging with a thin book in his hand. It had a picture of a blond boy standing on a tiny planet on the cover, under some sort of French title Curly couldn't read. "Here, I was going to give you my copy, since it might be hard to find," he said, giving Rose the book.

"What's that?" Curly asked.

"The Little Prince," Rose read from the cover. "It's the book that Larry and I are reading for our Muggle Book Club. You're letting me have yours?" she said to Larry with a mixture of disbelief and reverence. "Oh thank you, Larry, I promise I'll be very careful with it!"

"I know." Larry smiled, his eyes crinkling. "That's why I'm giving it to you." Rose returned the smile, holding the book up to her chest, and the two shared a small moment.

"Uh, so does everyone is that club speak French?" Dad asked, peering at the title.

" _Oui_ ," Rose replied. She and Larry exchanged a look, then chuckled at their own private joke.

"It's a very _exclusive_ club," Larry added, flashing a toothy grin.

Rose nudged him, still smiling. "The two of us are the only members," she elaborated. "Larry really thought that I ought to be more familiar with Muggle literature. I have to say, this was one of his more brilliant ideas. It's like a whole new world!"

Larry turned pink from the praise. Suddenly he whipped around, having spotted something in the crowd. "And that's my parents, talking to the conductor again. I better go before my mother—" He cut himself off, sighing. "Aaand there's the list of questions. I'll see you both at the museum in a week." He gave Rose and Curly a rushed wave and took up his trunk. " _Au revoir!_ "

Larry hurried over to his parents, apologising to the conductor and dragging them away. Curly had to chuckle to himself — Mrs Belle Desrosiers was a huge Hogwarts fangirl, and she never missed an opportunity to shower any and all Hogwarts Express staff with questions about things she might not have yet learned. Larry got a little embarrassed whenever she went too overboard.

Curly turned his attention to the book in Rose's arms, intending to ask some more questions about it, when he noticed blood at the edge of her curled fist. He gently pulled her hand away and unfurled it to have a look at the wound, discarding what remained of the thorny mistletoe.

He clicked his tongue a few times — that thing had done a number on her skin. "Could have stomped on it, you know." A blush coloured her cheeks, which made him chuckle. "It's okay, I'll fix you right up." For simple scratches, deep as they were, he didn't even need a wand; he simply closed his palms around hers and concentrated. Warm light shone under his fingers as his particular brand of healing magic flowed through him. In only a few seconds, the scratches closed and her skin was once again smooth under his.

"Thank you," Rose said, looking up at him. "I always meant to ask… How are you able to perform wandless magic? I've only ever seen you do that last Halloween; why don't you use it more often?"

Curly let out an awkward laugh, his right hand letting go of her to scratch at the back of his neck. "Ah, about that… I can only heal without a wand. Can't even summon a breadstick with my bare hands."

Rose raised an eyebrow. "That's oddly specific."

He laughed. "I may or may not have tried to be a Jedi at one point."

She stared at him, tilting her head to the side. "What is a Jedi?"

"Oh, uh, it's a space wizard. From a bunch of Muggle movies, I'll add them to the list of must-sees when we get back. But yeah, can't really do wandless magic. Just heal." He shrugged. "It's just something I've always been able to do."

"Interesting…" Rose muttered, looking down at their connected hands. Curly's dad was giving him a weird look.

"You, uh, you see your parents anywhere?" Curly craned his neck over the crowd; a useless gesture, since he didn't know what her parents looked like.

"Don't be silly, my parents haven't been to this platform since they saw me off in first year. Rogers will be picking me up." Her face scrunched up with worry. "But where is he? It's not like him to be late."

Ah, this was more manageable. Curly had met Rogers briefly when he'd popped in Waltz Manor during the summer. He seemed to be a cross between a tutor/nanny for Rose and the family butler. His posture was so straight that there had to be at least _one_ cane stuck up his ass, but he seemed to genuinely care about Rose and her wellbeing, even if he was kind of a stiff.

"What does this Rogers guy look like?" Dad asked.

Curly was just about to give him a description when Rose stiffened next to him, and an old man he'd never seen in his life waved at them cheerily from across the station. He wore a brown three-piece suit and a matching fedora, which gave him the air of a character from a twenties gangster movie. A pocket watch chain hung from his breast pocket, and his smiling face was full of laugh lines.

"Is that him?" Dad asked, and Curly almost lost it — he couldn't even imagine the strict, up-tight and formal Rogers laughing. What stopped him was the fact that Fedora Man casually approached them and drew Rose into a hug. Curly had to resist the urge to rub his eyes in disbelief.

"Rose! I haven't seen you in a few years; you've grown up so much!" the man said, even as Rose uncomfortably put a hand on his back.

"It's good to see you too, Grandpa."

 _Grandpa!?_

The man took a step back, smiling at her. "I talked your folks into letting me pick you up! Wanted to surprise you. And who's this?" He turned to Curly and gave him a once over. When Curly made to speak, he held up a hand and said, "Ah, don't tell me. You're Curly." He threw a grin at Rose. "Am I right?" Rose smiled slightly and nodded. "Aha!" the man said triumphantly. "Well, if he's the shortest of the three, I shudder to think what giants Moe and Larry must be." Curly laughed, and the man extended his grip, offering a handshake. "Good to meet you, my boy."

Curly took it and gave it a friendly squeeze. "Same here, Sir. I didn't expect a relative of Rose's to actually have a sense of humour." He chucked again. Rose shot him a panicked/incensed look, but her grandfather laughed heartily.

"Don't get used to it. Her father wouldn't know a joke if it bit him in the rear." The man turned to Dad and offered him a hand as well. "Sir William Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky. I'm Rose's grandfather; on the maternal side, thankfully."

"Eugene Fitzherbert. Curly's dad." The two men shook hands.

"Fitzherbert? I don't believe I've heard of your House. German?"

"Grandpa…" Rose muttered, "Mr Fitzherbert is a Muggle."

"Ah, you are?" Mr Tchaikovsky exclaimed heartily. "Fantastic! That means we can skip the tedious interrogation about how many Mugwumps of the Wizengamot have been in my family!"

"Uh… Great?" Dad threw a confused look at Curly, who chuckled.

"So, you are muggle born, then?" Mr Tchaikovsky added towards him.

"Half-blood, actually. Mum's a witch," Curly corrected him.

"Best of both worlds, I always say." He smiled widely. "Then you must know the fastest way to the Leaky Cauldron! Mind giving us some directions?"

"I can give you a lift in the car?" Dad offered. "Dunno if we can fit both of those in the trunk, though…" he added with a thoughtful look at Curly and Rose's luggage.

"Hm, they are quite inconvenient." Mr Tchaikovsky pulled out a wand from an inner pocket of his brown waistcoat and waved it. The two travelling trunks instantly shrunk to the size of gum packets. "This should make things easier. Now, did you say that you have a 'car'? That's those colourful muggle things that roar up and down the road, isn't it? I never learned to drive one myself."

"It's a lost art, really," Dad said as the two men started towards the exit. "People nowadays are getting automatic — all you do is push a button and it basically drives itself. But it just doesn't have that same feeling of the car purring when you change gears and—"

Curly and Rose exchanged a look, grabbed their mini trunks and Fitz's carrier, and hurried after them.

They piled in the back seat of Dad's Toyota, as the adults sat in the front, engulfed in their conversation about cars. Rose let Fitz out, and the kitten purred and rubbed into her. Curly had to smile, remembering how hesitant she'd been to get it. _What if animals don't like me_ , she'd said. Fitz sure seemed to have grown fond of her pretty fast. Curly reached over and scratched him behind the ears, causing the cat to swipe back playfully. Before he knew it, he was engaged in a war with the little guy, the both of them swiping at each other and making growling noises. Rose watched them, chuckling in her seat and calling him a child. Curly didn't mind — it was hardly an insult at all, and he liked making her laugh.

He hadn't expected the ride to take long—the Leaky Cauldron was maybe fifteen minutes away from the train station—but when the car came into a stop and he finally looked out the window, he saw that they'd actually taken a turn into one of the side streets.

"Uh, Dad?" Curly said, looking out at the car park of the giant Marks & Spencer they had stopped at. "What are we doing here?"

"I just need to pick up some stuff for your mum," Dad said, turning off the engine. "Will, would you like to see the inside of a sizeable Muggle shopping centre?"

"Sounds exciting!" Mr Tchaikovsky said, and the two men exchanged very suspicious grins. "You kids stay in the car; we'll be back shortly."

'Shortly' turned into twenty minutes. The temperature in the car dropped quickly, since Dad had taken the car keys with him, and the late December weather wasn't ideal for waiting inside a frozen metal box. Curly blew on his fingers to warm them, throwing a glance at Rose, who was snuggling with Fitz, her breath coming out in visible puffs.

"Do you think," she said, caressing the trembling cat, "that they got lost in there? It's pretty big."

"Don't know." Curly took a bit of sleeve in his fist and cleared the fogged window. The car park was deserted. "But I'm gonna find out." He twisted in the seat and pulled a folded purple blanket with little suns from the space under the back window, then draped it around her shoulders, closing it at the front. "I'll be back really quick, okay?" he said, pushing her hair out of the way as she nodded and Fitz moved somewhere under the blanket. "You two keep each other warm while I'm gone."

He gave her a reassuring grin, then got out of the car and walked briskly to the shopping centre. The outside was even colder, but as soon as he stepped through the door Curly was hit with a wave of warmth and the sounds of people pushing carts in all directions, chattering on about late holiday shopping. And right out of the door, he could see his dad and Rose's grandfather, sitting in a comfy little cafe area in the corner. More than a little annoyed, he made his way over, hands still in his pockets.

"Hey. What's the hold up?"

"Well, you tell us," Mr Tchaikovsky said, a mischievous glint in his eye as he took a sip from his coffee. "Do you need more time, or should we start heading back?"

Curly was utterly confused. "What?" he said, gaze moving to his father.

"You and Rose!" Dad exclaimed impatiently. "How far did you get? At least first base?"

Curly stared back blankly. It took him a second to realise what they were talking about. "What? No, no, Rose and I are _platonic_. Nothing happened in there—was that why you took away the keys? You made it cold on purpose!?" This was starting to piss him off.

His dad facepalmed.

"And that's a strike out," Mr Tchaikovsky said, taking another sip of his coffee and shooting the other man a glare. "Eugene, what have you been teaching this boy?"

"Oh come on," his dad said to Curly, "not even a cuddle?"

This might have been funny, if Rose and Fitz weren't freezing outside in the car. "Can you two put aside your weird matchmaking plans right now? Rose is still waiting for us, and it's butt cold out there."

Mr Tchaikovsky sighed and stood up. "Kids these days… you have to poke them with a cattle prod to make a move. No, no, I'll get it," he said when Dad reached for his wallet. "Paying with Muggle money is always fun."

He walked away as Dad downed the rest of his drink and put his jacket on. Curly waited, getting more ticked off by the second. They left him and Rose out in the cold because they assumed they were gonna make out?!

"You two are ridiculous," he said as his dad stood.

"Curly." Dad put a hand on his shoulder. "Marry that girl."

The grumpiness took a back seat to surprise for a moment, before Curly rolled his eyes. "What, did you arrange a marriage between us while we were freezing out there? I thought you were against that kind of thing?"

"What? No, not an arranged marriage, that's a crazy wizard thing, and your mum and I agreed it's not happening. What I mean is… Son, I see the way you look at her. And when you look at a girl like that, that's the girl you marry."

Embarrassment quickly overtook any residual anger, and Curly let out an awkward laugh. "Dad, I have no idea what you're talking about. We're teenagers."

His dad gave him a knowing look. "The way you look at Rose — that's how I look at your mother. Plus! That girl is adorable; your mum will love her. And then there's your friends to consider. I'm not saying you should propose to her _now_... but you might want to get a move on with making your feelings known." He leaned in conspiratorially and whispered, "'Cause I'm pretty sure I can see something brewing with her and Larry."

Without thinking, Curly whipped around to catch a glimpse of the car though the large glass doors.

His dad laughed. "See? You're head over heels for her." Then he added in a sing-song voice, "Better get her before your best friend steals her awaaaaay..." He left Curly to stare mutley after him as he sauntered over to where Mr Tchaikovsky was just getting his change from the counter.

 _What the fuck just happened?_

Curly shook his head. Those two were both nuts.

Back in the car, Rose was visibly shivering, and his annoyance returned in full force, reinforced by the fact that they found themselves at Charing Cross Road not ten minutes later. If it wasn't for that shitty attempt at matchmaking, they'd be on the way home already!

Still, when the car pulled into a stop again, Curly and his dad got off too and entered the Leaky Cauldron with Rose and her grandfather. There was a line to the fireplace as people were trying to floo home, so they stood in the queue, Fitz back in his blue plastic carrier. It went quickly, and pretty soon it was their turn. Mr Tchaikovsky threw a fistful of powder in the fire, said "Waltz Manor," and spun out of sight.

Rose turned to Curly, who opened his arms and said, "Goodbye Curly Hug?"

She looked away awkwardly, tucking a lock of hair behind her ear. "Um… we're in a public place…"

Curly's smile faded. Her sense of propriety was flaring up again, he knew, but he couldn't help feeling a sting of disappointment. "Hey, no problem," he said, offering a smile instead and putting his hands in his pockets. "I'll see you at the museum?"

She looked at him again, and the corner of her mouth curved up slightly. "I'll see you."

Turning, Rose made her way to the fireplace. Once she'd taken some floo powder, though, she paused. Curly watched her, thinking that maybe she'll change her mind. That didn't happen. The moment of hesitation was gone, and Rose disappeared in the emerald flames.


End file.
